


The Amulet of Avalon

by Drama_Duchess



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst, Blood and Injury, Brotherhood, Caring Arthur, Compassionate Arthur, Emotional, Friendship, Guilty Arthur, Hurt Merlin, Hurt/Comfort, No Slash, Self-Sacrificing Merlin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-28
Updated: 2015-05-13
Packaged: 2018-03-26 06:13:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 83,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3840094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drama_Duchess/pseuds/Drama_Duchess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin is severely injured after a duel with an evil sorcerer over the magical Amulet of Avalon. He returns to Camelot wounded and losing blood. He is successful in claiming back the Amulet of Avalon from the clutches of evil, but the story doesn't end there. Marked by a ferocious gargoyle, Merlin fights to keep himself and Arthur safe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Merlin's Plight

**Author's Note:**

> This Merlin fic is possibly set during Series 1.

A cloaked figure dashed through a swirling mist of fog, occasionally tripping and stumbling upon foliage along the dark barriers of the forest. He weaved through a scatter of mutilated bodies that blocked his path. There was no time to stop and wonder what caused the untimely demise of these people. The young warlock had something way more important to do. He was on a mission. Staggering and reeling from the blistering pain caused by his wounds, he forced himself to press onward. He was on the verge of collapse, but he couldn't do that – not when he was so close. There would be plenty of time to collapse later. Right now, it was imperative that he reached the castle as quickly as his legs could carry him. The whole well-being of Camelot depended on him and him alone – a big burden for such a young man.

Swathed in a ratty old hooded woolen cloak, he ignored the massive amount of blood that gushed out of several deep wounds. He was extremely dizzy from the blood loss and questioned himself many times if he was even going in the right direction. But his doubts were relieved when he remembered what Gaius taught him on countless nature lessons. Moss grew on the side of the tree facing north and north was where he needed to go.

New blood trickled down his face from a gash on the side of his head where it had recently came into contact with the pommel of a sword. Wet and dried blood matted his mousy black hair against the side of his head. Scrapes and bruises from being whipped by branches itched and burned his face. He quickly wiped the blood away from his eyes with the back of his hand. Images around him swam in slow circles as he greedily drew in the cold brisk midnight air. The air was not crisp and minty as it should be under normal circumstances. On the contrary, the air was tainted with the charred smell of smoldering wood and burnt human flesh. Breathing in the fumes brought an uncomfortable stinging sensation to his lungs and added miserably to his already ailing health.

The young man drew his hood up tighter hoping to avoid being pelted by the rain of embers that appeared to be falling from the sky. In dodging the debris, he tripped over a thick twisted root that protruded from the ground. Just as he was about to tumble head first into the earth, he grabbed the trunk of a nearby tree to steady him from falling. The impact sent a bolt of excruciating pain throughout his body, causing him to cry out. The pain was so intense that he thought he was going to pass out for sure. He breathed and willed himself to keep from fainting.

A quick roll of thunder rumbled somewhere over the mountains, like a reminder that he needed to keep moving. He lifted his head and surveyed the sky for a minute, then forced himself to run. There was nothing in the realm of magic that could help him now. His power diminished tremendously when he used it to defeat an evil sorcerer named Blais. Blais was strong and it took a great deal of power to do what he did. He grew weaker and weaker as he bled out.

He put a good distance between him and King Badon's army of knights as well. But he wasn't worried about them. They were human and he could handle them blindfolded with hands tied behind his back. It was the winged, fire-breathing, sharp-clawed gargoyles that gave him reason to worry. Just as Blais expired, he sent his gargoyles after him in retribution. They've done their damage and would no doubt catch up to finish him off eventually. Full of determination, he gathered up all his strength and picked up his pace. Every now and then, he would anxiously check on the small leather pouch that was strapped securely to his wrist. His bloodied hand trembled as he groped for its content to confirm that it hadn't fallen out during the length of his escape. He breathed a sigh of relief when he realized the object was still there.

Off in the distance, as if by magic, he saw the familiar red and gold Pendragon flag on the tip of the northern towers of Camelot flapping about in the night wind. He sprinted towards the castle with all his might and came to a stop when he reached the entrance. It was heavily protected by a multitude of King Uther's guards and patrolmen. Security was so tight that not even a fly could squeeze passed them without being noticed. It was rightly so that they should be concerned about security with the escalating clash between King Uther and King Badon. Uther had put up twice as many guards to better secure the perimeter of thieves, spies, and seedy people.

A spread of guards stood thick and tall with feet firmly rooted to the ground like oak trees, setting about six feet apart from each other. They wore the standard issue helmets of Camelot and were protected from head to foot with armor. Atop their chainmail, they wore tunics that proudly bore the red and gold Pendragon crest. Armed with spears in their hands and other weapons strapped to their belts, the guards looked strong and intimidating. They were attentive and on the lookout for any suspicious activity on their watch.

The young warlock saw beyond the guards and set his eyes on the sturdy iron gates of the castle and raced towards it. He stumbled into the clearing, oblivious to the fact that it was dark and the guards could mistake him for an intruder. It didn't take too long for the two guards to notice the unsteady figure tear out from the forest. They gave a short whistle to the nearby guards to alert them that something was amiss. With spears in hand, they stood ready to attack.

"Who goes there?" The first burly guard demanded firmly, squinting into the darkness.

"Please – I need to see King Uther." The young warlock begged urgently, failing to identify himself. Out of breath, he staggered towards the guards. Slightly slouched with one hand holding his wound and the other firmly clutching the small leather pouch, he winced and groaned. He was in so much pain that he could barely stand.

"I ask again. Who goes there?" The burly guard repeated. By then, a few of the other guards had arrived to the scene. They started approaching the cloaked figure with extreme caution.

"Please…" The boy cried in distress. There was no time for lengthy explanations. Besides he didn't have the strength to stand there and go into details. He needed to get into the castle.

"Stop. That's far enough!" The burly guard yelled when the warlock dashed forward. They were under strict orders to be cautious of anyone entering or exiting Camelot.

"You don't understand." The boy cried. His head was reeling. "I need to see King Uther. It's important."

"No one is allowed to see the King." The second guard shouted. "State your purpose. Who are you?"

"It is Merlin." The boy said finally. He pulled down the hood of his cloak down to reveal a bloodied face. "I am Prince Arthur's manservant." He stammered. The flowing length of the cloak hid the rest of the injuries from sight.

With spears still drawn, the two guards inched closer to get a good look at this boy with a face covered in blood. There was so much pain in Merlin's river blue eyes. His body was dying and he needed so much to do one last thing before it happened. He hoped the guards would show some mercy to a battered Pendragon servant and grant him his dying wish.

"I really need to see King Uther." Merlin begged. "Please take me to Arthur then."

"It was King Uther's orders to not let anyone belonging to Camelot out of these gates without permission. How did you manage to slip pass us?" The guard challenged suspiciously.

"It doesn't matter anymore. I have to see Arthur." Merlin did not have the strength to keep this up.

He figured there was no use in reasoning with these thick, stubborn guards, when they were only capable of doing one thing – following orders. From the looks of things, it was highly unlikely that they were going to let him pass the gate without giving him a hard time. Merlin ignored their cold stares and took a few earnest steps forward, only to be threatened by the sharp ends of two spears.

Merlin's river blue eyes flashed a fiery gold for a split second as he muttered words of enchantment. And just as he said those words, the two bulky guards were sent spiraling backwards and landed flat on their backs. It was like as if a rug was pulled right out from under them. In doing this, another ounce of magic had left Merlin's body and he felt even weaker than before. Dizziness swept over him as he tried to maintain balance on his feet. The diversion was Merlin's opportunity to run and he took it. Gaius had told Merlin a thousand times not to use magic unless absolutely necessary. Under the circumstances, Merlin felt it was very necessary. However, Merlin did not get far.

He barely reached the gate when two other guards grabbed him by the nape of his neck and pulled him back. It was something Merlin hadn't expected. The pressure was too much and he screamed out in pain. The painful distraction rendered it close to impossible to conjure up any defensive spells. Magic was leaving him, as was his life force.

"What did you do?" A guard roared in anger.

"I didn't do anything. They just slipped." Merlin said with jaws clenched, trying to be strong.

"Prince Arthur's manservant, eh?" Another guard said. "Come to think of it, he does look a little familiar." His threatening face was about three inches away from Merlin. "I've seen him mucking out the stables a few times." He sounded like he was about to let out a chuckle. "He's harmless, mates." The burly guard called to the others.

"It was punishment for being tardy." Merlin said. A few guards within earshot laughed and mumbled a few amusing words to each other.

"No one was supposed to leave the castle. What should we do with this boy?" A guard questioned with a threatening look on his creased face.

"He wants to see Uther. Let's bring him to Uther." Another guard suggested. "Maybe this time, he'll get punished for breaking the rules. Perhaps, Uther will throw him in the dungeon for a week." He cackled, trying to scare Merlin. "How would you like that, Merlin? You can make friends with the rats!" Laughter bellowed after these harsh words.

And soon, the decision was unanimous among the guards. It was easy for them to tease and bully Merlin. They were bigger, stronger, and definitely out-ranked a simple manservant. Merlin was still new to the world of Camelot and things need getting used to. Merlin always seemed to set himself up for such consequences. He had that sort of an innocent, push-over demeanor about him that made him a likely target. People often underestimated him. Unaware of Merlin's injuries, a guard on each side scooped him up by the armpits and dragged him through the iron gates. Exhausted, Merlin allowed the burly guards to haul him wherever they wished, just so as long as he was going into the castle.

M.M.M.

King Uther, his trusted court advisors, Prince Arthur, and a handful of the head knights were in the war room plotting battle strategies and counter-attacks. They had to prepare themselves in the event of an outbreak of war against King Badon. War was something they had to resort to if they failed to come to a peaceful resolution. In addition to a possibility of war, they had to deal with the sorcerer Blais, which could not have come at a more inconvenient time for Camelot. He was not interested in the trade disputes between Uther and Badon, nor did he care about the coming of war. Blais, apparently, had his own selfish evil plans of destruction. Uther and the others worked hard. Being one step ahead of the game and constantly designing clever tactics was time consuming and irksome. Fatigue left Uther often in an irritable and foul mood.

Scrolls of maps and diagrams of all sizes were scattered across the tables, chairs and floor. The men stood around the rectangular pine table discussing in-depth procedures and pointing to areas on the map in front of them. Quills, ink bottles, used candle stubs, and newly lit candles were everywhere. On the end of the table was a half empty pitcher of ale with mugs spread all around. They talked simultaneously to one another expressing new schemes when the door swung open with a loud bang. Everyone stopped talking at once and turned to face the source of the noise. The two guards with Merlin in tow entered past the threshold.

The two hefty guards were similar in height, size and appearance. Perhaps the only trait different about them were their voices. They could have easily passed off as clones of each other. A frail and feeble Merlin was sandwiched in between them. The young man's health was rapidly failing. Slumping forward, Merlin was glad the two guards were holding him up (even if it was by the armpits) because he would surely fall over if they hadn't. Their big hands had a tight hold around his skinny biceps.

"What is the meaning of this?" King Uther demanded from afar.

"Sire, we caught this boy trying to enter the castle grounds." The guard said. "He says he has something important to tell you."

"Bring him here." Uther's solid voice rang out.

The guards obeyed and dragged Merlin towards the men at the table. At last, the two guards let go of poor Merlin. His legs could no long support the weight of his body. And like a spineless creature, he slid to the floor and landed at King Uther's feet. Merlin's face nearly hit the floor but he managed to pull himself up to a seated position. He looked up pitifully at King Uther. The men in the room were silent and stared at this blood-covered boy wrapped in a peasant's cloak.

"Merlin? Is that you?" Prince Arthur said as he suddenly recognized his manservant, whose face hid behind a mask of blood. Arthur quickly made his way around the table and knelt down to confirm that his eyes were not deceiving him. "What happened to you?"

"It's alright Arthur. I – I brought it back." Merlin rambled and flinched when Arthur reached out to touch him. Arthur was shocked at the sight before him. He couldn't stop staring at the horrible-looking bloody wound on Merlin's head.

"Your head…there's so much blood." Arthur said in alarm. "Quick, someone send for Gaius." He demanded.

"Arthur, Camelot is safe now. I took it back. I – I took it back." Merlin spoke in deep hard breaths. He seemed disoriented and sick while his face had gone a shade paler. Although the throbbing pain from his head injury pounded, he still managed a weak smile. Merlin's trembling hand stuck out of the opening in the front of the cloak and presented Arthur with the small leather pouch that had been strapped to his wrist. He motioned Arthur to take it.

"Your hand, Merlin. You've got blood on your hand." Arthur noticed.

"It's nothing. I'm fine." Merlin lied. "Here, take this." He instructed while pushing forth the leather pouch.

"What is it?" Arthur questioned curiously.

As the others looked on, Arthur took the semi-bloodied pouch, opened the drawstring, and poured the contents onto his palm. Everyone was surprised and flabbergasted to see the familiar valuable relic that dropped into Prince Arthur's hand. On the end of a strong, thick chain was a beautiful amulet in the shape of a large fig. Through the gaps of four polished vertical rows of molded silver, a round milky white crystal could be seen glowing softly, almost pulsating. The warm magical light radiated the room and caused appalling gasps and small chatter among the crowd.

"It's the Amulet of Avalon! Where did you get this?" Arthur pressed in amazement. He looked seriously at his servant. But Merlin only smiled satisfactorily. Seeing all those surprised yet relieved faces, he knew he had finally done something right in his life. Gaining the approval of his master and the king was all he ever wanted. For the price he paid, it was worth it.

"How is that possible?" King Uther's bewildered tone echoed around the room. "Blais took it from the Temple of Grace and vanished. There was no trace of him after the incident. How is a simple manservant able to steal back the amulet from an evil sorcerer?"

King Uther Pendragon was not a man who accepted magic easily. In his life, he had more than just physical battle scars. He knew what it was like to be burned by the wrath of magic. His extensive history with sorcerers and witches had led him to the belief that the world was a better place without magic. He ordered death to all those who practiced magic. But as much as he wished to bury his head in the sand and deny magic, he knew deep down that it existed. He forbade the use of magic in his kingdom because it was much easier to oppose it than to welcome it.

Gaius, the highly knowledgeable and respected court physician, was King Uther's trusted confidant. The king often sought advice from Gaius, but whether or not the advice was taken, was an entirely different issue. King Uther had a feeling that Gaius was more than just an old physician with scientific ways of curing ailments. Because of the fact that he knew Gaius for so many years and have grown to trust him, he often turned a blind eye whenever Gaius made a miraculous cure. In return, Gaius was always extremely discreet about it and did not flaunt what he was able to do.

"It was my fault. I was the one who let him in there." Merlin's voice grew weak.

"But it was an accident. You didn't mean to. You didn't know." Arthur swallowed. He defended his servant because he knew how unforgiving his father could be sometimes. Uther didn't really have to think too hard about dispensing punishment or execution. "You didn't know who he really was. He tricked you."

"I had to get it back...because it was my fault." Merlin insisted. "I had to make things right."

"Incredible." King Uther muttered. He paid very little notice to the injured servant, but his main attention was on the glowing amulet in his son's hand.

"You could have gotten yourself killed, you idiot." Arthur blurted insensitively to Merlin. He wanted to sound like his usual mean self, but his voice cracked so badly that it made him appear more troubled than anything else.

Some people were able to stand expressing heartfelt feelings – not Arthur. He was a prince and most everyone had a certain stereotype of how princes were expected to act. He dared not show too much compassion for the hired help. It would not please his father if he did. Uther brought Arthur up with the notion that he ought to get whatever he wished because of the simple fact that he was the royal heir. He was supposed to be superior and should not feel sorry for servants or maids. Servants were there to serve and that was their only function. It was hard for Arthur to admit that although Merlin was his servant, he was starting to enjoy his company and would even go so far as to consider him a "best" friend. He often had an odd way of expressing his affection through insults.

"And what's become of Blais?" King Uther demanded.

"He's dead." Merlin faltered. "At least I think he's dead, Sire. I saw him burn up and all that was left of him were ashes."

"Ashes, you say?" King Uther said. His voice was skeptical.

"It - it must be the amulet." Merlin answered. What Merlin really wanted to say was that it was he who confronted and destroyed Blais. It took nearly all the power he had in his body to defeat such a dominant sorcerer. Blais was strong but Merlin liked to believe that he was stronger. Of course, Merlin couldn't tell Uther the truth. He had to remain a modest hero and accept none of the credit.

"The amulet indeed." King Uther rubbed his chin in astonished revelation. Arthur handed the amulet to his father. At that point, Arthur seemed to be more concerned about his servant than a precious artifact like the Amulet of Avalon.

"Merlin, are you alright? Nasty wound on your head." Arthur observed. He noticed Merlin's eyelids drooped lower and lower as he stared at a single spot on the floor.

Merlin gave no reply and appeared not have heard Arthur's words. His hold on consciousness was slipping away. Numbness spread limb by limb. In a matter of seconds he collapsed, falling forward. Arthur's quick reflexes reached out and caught Merlin before he hit the floor. As Merlin fell into Arthur's arms, his old cloak flew open to reveal a gory wound.

"Oh no, Merlin!" Arthur gasped in horror. It was only then that Arthur realized what had happened to his friend. The full front of Merlin's rust colored tunic was bloodied and mutilated. Wet and clotted blood absorbed nearly every square inch of his tattered clothing. In between the rips of fabric, Arthur could see the openings in the flesh. Three large gashes ran from the side to the just above the navel. Fresh blood seeped in the wounds. Arthur noticed that the peculiar looking cuts were not neat. Rather, the flesh appeared to have been shredded to ribbons.

Being a knight, Arthur knew something about painful injuries. He'd seen it all – from lacerations to amputations, scabs to scars, fractures to sprains. But for him to see it happen to someone so close to him, well, it just wasn't comprehensible. The horrible wounds were proof of the suffrage. He could only image what it was like to be badly injured, running through the dark night with nothing but an old cloak for warmth, bleeding profusely and desperately trying to keep from falling unconscious, all the while avoiding King Badon's men. It just wasn't possible for someone of Merlin's passive nature to have the power to pull off such a victory.

The men of the high court took a step closer to catch a glimpse of Merlin's injury. They all frowned to each other in dismay, like as if they were witnessing some sort of dead rodent on the floor that had been mauled to death by a cat. It didn't affect them at the very least. To royals and people of nobility, servants were considered expendable and replaceable so it wasn't unnatural for the people of the high court to care very little for these people. No one was too concerned about a dying servant. It was more likely that they cared more about the blood dripping all over the floor than the life of the servant. The men succumbed to whispered conversation.

"Where is Gaius?" Arthur hollered nervously as Merlin lay with the back of his neck resting comfortably on the crook of Arthur's arm. Perhaps Arthur was the only one in the high court who gave a damn about Merlin. He didn't want to acknowledge it, but he was truly different from them. He come off as harsh sometimes, but he didn't have a heart of stone. He cared about things and sometimes, he cared too much. So afraid to show this side of himself, he could not admit that Merlin was his friend - a friend that saved his life on many occasions.

Merlin's eyes fluttered open. He saw hazy fog surrounding Arthur's worried face. For the first time, he noticed how much Arthur's facial features resembled his father. They both possessed the same handsomeness. But the stamp of likeness was in the majestic cheekbones and imperial nose. However, the difference was in the eyes. Uther's eyes were always strict and perhaps callous whereas Arthur's were gentle and compassionate. He often wondered if it was true that the window into one's soul was through his eyes.

"Arthur." Merlin whispered, barely able to speak.

"Gaius is coming. He will make you well. I know he will." Arthur implored. He tried to wipe the blood away from Merlin's cheek.

"Please don't be afraid for me." Merlin pleaded and forced a wiry smile. "If this helps Camelot, then it's all been worth it.

"Your heroic deeds won't be done in vain. I promise." Arthur said in comfort and held Merlin tighter.

"Arthur, remember – remember when I said I would be happy to be your servant until the day I die?" Merlin said.

"Yes." Arthur said and swallowed the salty lump in his throat. As much as he wanted to cry, he forced himself to be emotionally strong. Of course, it would not be advisable for a prince to cry over the death of his servant and become the scrutiny among all these important men in the room. He was trying so hard to bottle his feelings.

"It'll always be true….no matter wha..." Merlin's voice trailed off and his body got heavier in Arthur's arms. His eyelids drooped to a close as he welcomed the comfort of the darkness.

"Merlin." Arthur called earnestly. His voice trembled. He shook Merlin gently in hopes of reviving him, but Merlin remained unresponsive. "No, Merlin! You'll be alright. Please don't die. You're not going to die." He said with anguish in his tone.

"What has happened?" A thin robed old man with long silver strands for hair materialized at the doorway with one of King Uther's advisors, who had gone to fetch the old physician.

"Gaius! Help Merlin. He's been hurt." Arthur cried at the old man.

Gaius had been busy alternating between the castle infirmary tending to injured men and concocting remedies in his chambers. He hadn't had the time to keep track of his young ward's whereabouts and clock his disappearance. The last time he'd seen Merlin was during dinner. But he figured Merlin was occupied with doing some special chores for Arthur, which was not so unusual. Merlin's routine changed from day to day and his work hours varied. Some days, he finished early and other days, he worked late. When news came to Gaius about Merlin, he dropped everything and rushed to the war room.

Gaius rushed over and knelt down next to Arthur and the ever so pale Merlin. He quickly inspected Merlin's injuries and looked up at once. "We need to get him to my chambers immediately and care for these wounds." He said.

King Uther ordered the guard to assist with the removal of Merlin from the war room. The burly guard came forth and scooped up Merlin, cradling him easily with one arm behind his knees and the other across the shoulders. Limp and oblivious to his surroundings, Merlin flopped like a ragged doll in the guard's muscular arms.

"Take it easy." Arthur advised when he felt the guard was being a little too rough with the unconscious body he was carrying. The guard nodded and bowed respectfully at the prince's request.

Gaius and the guard left the room in haste. Arthur was about to follow them out when King Uther stopped him.

"Arthur, your duty is here." Uther's voice said firmly.

"But father..." Arthur said.

"I will not have you fawn over a servant. There are more important matters that need attending to." Uther said.

"Father, it is quite known that I fawn over no one. I understand that it is duly my responsibility to you and to Camelot to be ready and prepared should we engage in battle." Arthur said. "But need I remind you that it was Merlin, my manservant, who brought the Amulet of Avalon back to us. It was he who risked his life for the sake of Camelot. Should he not deserve a little kind attention and compassion?"

Uther was almost impressed by his son's sense of righteousness and justification. Sometimes, he thought Arthur had what it took to be king one day, then there were times where he felt Arthur lacked the character. Uther believed a king needed to stand his ground, establish leadership and strict laws, be authoritative, as well as fair - no matter how ruthless he may appear to be. Arthur was at times, too merciful and forgiving. This needed work.

"Alright." Uther said after a moment's thought. "You may go see about your servant. I will grant you fifteen minutes." He said with a turn of his back. He went to the table to talk to his advisors about the amulet. Arthur sped down the torch lit corridors and made his way to Gaius' chamber.

The old room reeked of herbs and exotic roots. It was quite the science lab. There were endless shelves containing jars and baskets of tonics, spices, powders, and dried remedies. Wooden bowls, clay mortars and pestles were left all over the table along with other apparatus that looked absolutely foreign to Arthur. Gaius also kept an impressive library. It was nothing compared to the court library, but it was impressive to say the least. There were rows and rows of leather bound books that looked like they've had their share of wear and tear. He glanced around and spotted Gaius by the fireplace tending to an unconscious Merlin, who was reclined in a small bed.

"Is he going to be alright?" Arthur inquired anxiously. He knelt down by Merlin's bedside.

"He's breathing, but very shallow." Gaius said as he applied a temporary poultice to the bruise on Merlin's head. "He's lost a great deal of blood."

Gaius proceeded to remove Merlin's tattered shirt by cutting through it with a knife. They both drew back instantly when they saw the extent of the wounds exposed entirely across Merlin's torso. Even Arthur had to turn away for a second so he could grasp his bearings. Being a physician, there was nothing the Gaius had not seen. He'd definitely seen worse, but for him to see the bloody mess that became of his young ward, it was too alarming. It finally dawned on Gaius what this boy had endured.

"Who did this to you? Tell me who did this to you and I will make him pay." Arthur said to Merlin with clenched teeth and eyes full of grief. Seeing the awful disfiguring cuts on his friend's body was too much. It was just not right. It wasn't fair. Merlin, of all people, did not deserve this. He should not have to go through so much pain and suffering. Arthur wanted justice. He wanted retaliation. He needed to do something, yet he knew nothing of what happened. Not knowing anything was torturing him.

Merlin gave no response and remained absolutely still. His head was turned slightly facing the blazing fire going in the fireplace. Gone was the glow of rosy cheeks, as was the radiant look of health. It was replaced with dark circles under his eyes and a deathly white complexion. His consciousness drifted farther and farther away. He heard nothing and felt nothing. Death was inviting him.

"It's not who, Arthur. It's what." Gaius said patiently. He reached over to the table for some cottonseed to absorb the blood. Confused, Arthur looked up to meet Gaius' all-knowing stare.

End of Chapter 1


	2. A Change of Heart

_Merlin was brutally attacked by a gargoyle_. Gaius' words echoed in Arthur's mind as he lay snug in his warm bed staring at the top of the canopy. The young prince was back in the comfort and safety of his room, but nothing could shield him from all worries and pressures that had beset upon Camelot within the last twenty-four hours. He was extremely exhausted from the day's tedious activities, but he could not find sleep. All sorts of rough thoughts and images were going through his mind, making slumber difficult. He tossed and turned for a while, trying desperately to forget the images of Merlin lying on the floor unconscious with a small puddle of blood slowly forming around his body.

_...Attacked by a gargoyle._ Gaius' gruff voice repeated in his head. From where he lay in the dark, Arthur could see from his window that dawn was starting to break. The sky had begun brightening and perhaps he could hear a soft chirp of a bird perched somewhere nearby welcoming the new day. The late night conference with his father, the trusted court advisors, and the head knights had gone into the wee hours of the morning, as expected. His father had only relieved every one of their duties two hours ago. It was advised that everyone should get some sleep because the coming day was going to be more of the same. Four hours of sleep and rest time was just not enough for anyone with such a big responsibility. Arthur knew it would be impossible to keep up his head clear while riding on so little sleep.

The high winds have picked up and rattled the glass on the windows. If he stayed real still, he could even hear the wind howling and whistling wildly outside. Arthur nestled deeper into the lushness of his massive bed. His cotton night robes have never felt softer against his skin. His room was silent except for the occasional crackling of wood in the fireplace a few yards from his bed. Usually, it was Merlin who built the fire so that the room would be warmed up by the time Arthur returned at the day's end. Merlin would've conveniently had the bath drawn and sleepwear meticulously spread out on the bed. A light snack would be laid out on the table along with whatever else Arthur desired at the moment. Things were different this particular night because Merlin was not there to do all this for him. It left Arthur fending for himself and realizing how much he relied on his servant. He entered the coldness of his room, built the fire, and took care of himself. Arthur shifted his position on the bed to face the fireplace. He stared at the dying flames as it engulfed the last of the wood.

_How could Merlin have stood a chance against a gargoyle? Merlin didn't know the first thing about combat. He didn't even know how to hold a sword properly. And what was he thinking in going after Blais by himself? Merlin should've known better. If only he told me. I would've gone with him. Could the burden of losing the amulet be so great that Merlin felt he had to go after it alone?_ Arthur thought.

The Amulet of Avalon had since been placed safely back where it belonged to protect and restore the balance between good and evil. Some would say that Uther was a born hypocrite and yet others would say that he was a most stubborn king. His love-hate relationship with magic has always gotten him in trouble. He was willing to embrace it out of desperation, but each time he got the short end of the stick, he resented it. Uther was a sore loser. He was the type who wanted to win all the time. As much as Uther despised magic, he believed the Amulet of Avalon possessed great powers of good and could be disastrous if it fell into the wrong hands. The Amulet of Avalon was able to protect Camelot from certain evil sorcery, but it could not prevent acts of human violence, such as war. King Uther had a stern way of keeping his feelings hidden but Arthur knew he was pleased the amulet was back. Besides, it was one less thing to worry about.

With Blais dormant, King Uther and his men could concentrate on the potential war raging against King Badon. Arthur felt maintaining precedence and power over the kingdom was important. And perhaps in a different time and place, he would even be all pumped up on the thought of battle and demolishing his enemies. It would be a pure adrenaline rush. But right then, he had very little desire for war. Getting the amulet back was a big help. If it wasn't for Merlin, all of Camelot would've been a magnet for evil. Although Arthur was relieved that the amulet was safe, he wished just not at the expense of Merlin. He would never trade the life of his manservant for anything in the world. It would go against everything he'd worked so hard for - his code of ethics. There were always other ways of getting things done.

_What have you done, Merlin? Why did you sacrifice yourself?_ Arthur thought bitterly, fearing for the worst.

The softness of his pillow against his cheek and the warm plush down-filled blankets covering him reminded him of how incredibly lucky he was to have all these luxuries. He remembered his last visit to Merlin at Gaius' chambers before retiring to his own room. Gaius' chamber was so cramped that it resembled that of a closet. Aside from the strange smells coming from the ointments and medicines that Gaius had prepared, a stale scent of old books and parchment lingered around the poorly ventilated room. The room could definitely use some airing out.

Merlin's bedroom did not have a fireplace and often in the colder months, Gaius allowed him to sleep on the rug by the fireplace located in the front of the chambers. Merlin would take out his blankets and pillows from his room. Sleeping on the floor did not bother him because he was used to it. Back in Ealdor, he often slept on the floor when he had family staying over and had to give his bed to his guest. In Gaius' chamber, the stone walls did a fine job of retaining unwanted coldness. But sudden drafts of wind crawled through the cracks of the window pane made the air in the room that much cooler. Gaius kept the fireplace going at all times. Even with the fire going, it was still barely enough to keep the whole room at a steady temperature.

The image of a semi-conscious Merlin shaking like a leaf from the cold as he lay dying on a small hard mattress made of buckwheat sent shivers down Arthur's spine. Even after layering two blankets onto Merlin, he was still trembling uncontrollably. It was only after Gaius pulled Merlin's makeshift bed closer to the fireplace that the trembling eased. It enraged Arthur to suddenly be aware of the horrible conditions his servant lived under. He'd only been in Gaius' chambers a few times, but never had he ever stopped to observe the living standards.

Anger, grief, helplessness, despair, and fear filled Arthur as he remembered sitting there staring at what had become of Merlin. His nerves were pinched and soon, the rage and fury began to build in his heart. Arthur stood there like a statue as he watched Gaius make a dressing for Merlin's wounds and applied it carefully into the gashes. Arthur waited for Merlin to respond to the pain, but he did not move. The process was sickening to watch. He was overcome by an extreme sadness. Perhaps his eyes were opened for the first time. Merlin was a passive, clumsy servant, but he always meant well. He tried to do the right things and would never intentionally hurt anyone. He was a sympathetic individual, despite his knack for constantly getting into trouble and not doing as he was told. It somehow dawned on Arthur that Merlin was a most forgiving person who always stood by him regardless of the verbal abuse. Regret manifested in Arthur's heart. Now that Merlin was dying, only did Arthur realize how much Merlin meant to him. He wished he could change the past.

The fire snapped and crackled in the hearth. Arthur stared at the dancing flames. He promised to treat Merlin better. He prayed that Merlin's life would be spared. Merlin certainly didn't deserve to die. He willingly placed himself in great danger for the sake of Camelot. He may not be a warrior or even know what to do with a sword, but because he was willing to die for Camelot, he was just as valiant and courageous as any knight.

_I would be happy to be your servant till the day I die_. Arthur bit his lip at recalling Merlin's last words. He remembered the weary smile on Merlin's face. It was just a smile but it spoke a thousand words. It was like as if that one final smile meant Merlin forgave Arthur for his cruelty.

This was not how it was supposed to be. Merlin may be a servant, but he was not expendable. He was not replaceable. No one can ever replace Merlin. He should not have to die like this. In fact, Merlin deserved so much to live. A big salty lump formed in the prince's throat. He tried to swallow it down but it only got worse.

_How am I to live without my servant? Without my only friend?_ Arthur thought. He had an interesting way about hiding his true feelings from everyone, including Merlin.

Being the second most powerful and influential person in all of Camelot, Arthur realized there were two types of people. The first were people who were so afraid of him that they answered to his every beck and call – almost slave-like. The second were people who would do anything to be his "friend." They constantly sucked up to him, brought him gifts, told him all he wanted to hear and never dared to disagreed with him. These people were not his true friends. They only wanted to get on his good side because they had everything to gain from rubbing elbows with a prince. He didn't care much either way. The all-fearing yes-men and yes-women were fun for a while, but the routine soon grew old and boring. People who wanted to buy his friendship were even worst. This made Arthur quite miserable and at the same time, rather lonely. That is, until Merlin came along.

Merlin wasn't afraid to point out Arthur's flaws and give him advice – even when it wasn't requested. He spoke his mind and did what he felt was right. Merlin knew his place but he wasn't afraid of angering Arthur or being punished for revealing his opinions. There was always some logic behind his actions. Merlin was honest, pure, and candid. Bravery glowed in him. Perhaps a lot of the times, he didn't think before he acted, but he always fought for what he believed to be the morally right thing to do. Come to think of it, Arthur had many acquaintances in his life but rarely any true, honest friends. Certainly he had always been surrounded by a multitude of colorful and exciting people, though none of them possessed the qualities of a worthy friend. If he really thought hard about it, Merlin was his first real friend.

_Please Merlin, don't die. Please don't die. I'm sorry for being a prat. I swear I will be better to you. I swear it. You're too important to me to die._ Arthur thought with eyes shut tight.

The thought of losing his dear friend was unbearable and incomprehensible. Merlin was supposed to be there for him. He wasn't supposed to leave. The raw emotions were too strong for him to hold back and the hot tears slid out from the corners of his eyes. Arthur clenched his fist around the corner of his blanket and sobbed. No one bore witness to his vulnerable and rather embarrassing state. He was free to cry all he wanted in the solitude of his own room. No one was there to poke fun at his pathetic bawling or to ridicule him in being all broken up about losing a stupid servant. Then again, he couldn't believe he was crying over a servant. But this wasn't just any servant, it was his friend Merlin. That was the difference. And because of this realization, it made things harder to swallow. Arthur would never be able to find another friend as sincere, frank, and at the same time, amusing as Merlin.

No one shall see him cry - not his father, not Morgana, not Gwen, not anyone. As a prince and future king of Camelot, he shall not expose his vulnerability. Whatever he felt, he will keep it to himself and remain strong. Arthur was safe to cry in his room. It was the one place where he could be himself and not be judged by everyone else. With his tear-stained pillow as his only comfort, he wondered how he would ever forgive himself if Merlin died. His blue eyes brimmed with uncontrollable tears and his lips quivered as he lay sobbing. The tears mellowed him and eventually, he fell asleep.

M.M.M.

Camelot was starting to bustle with activity at the crack of dawn. Washerwomen with their loads gossiped to each other as they made their way to the stream. Little messenger boys were dashing through the streets delivering missives and running errands for their masters. Vendors wheeling their carts filled with edible and non-edible merchandise chugged against the cobbled pavement. The blacksmith and his assistants were already sharpening swords and manufacturing new weapons for the king's men. The kitchen maids with their wicker baskets scoured the markets for ingredients. Young girls selling flowers and berries on cigarette trays were already roaming the square.

With only a few hours of sleep, Arthur got out of bed and dressed himself. Merlin would not be there to help him today, nor would Merlin be there to deliver breakfast. It didn't matter because he was not in the mood for a full meal anyway. Instead, he grabbed a pear from a nearby fruit basket and munched on it as he headed out the door.

It seemed too good a day for war. However, Arthur had to keep his reflexes and skills intact. He went through the usual practice routine every day. Afterwards, he would show up at "basic training" and see how the newcomers were progressing. Then he would visit the "intermediates" and "advanced" level groups, watch for a while, give a few pointers and leave the captains to their jobs. He would finally end up joining his knights in a mock battle.

Arthur, then, got cleaned up and re-dressed – usually with the help of Merlin – to meet with the king. But today, Arthur did everything by himself and quietly. He walked to the dining room, where lunch was being served. Uther sat at the far end of the table and on the opposite end, sat the beautiful Morgana. A few paces behind her, stood Gwen with hands folded in front of her skirt and eyes turned downward.

"Hello father, Morgana." Arthur said and bowed. Uther and Morgana dipped their heads in acknowledgement and waited for Arthur to take his seat. Several servants then filed into the dining room as if on cue and began placing food on the table. They quietly poured wine in the goblets and made sure everything was in perfect order before retreating to a corner until they were needed again. Arthur never paid any attention to the servants before, but on this day, he couldn't take his eyes off them. They stood there with their hands behind their backs and emotionless faces, like toy soldiers. They were taught this behavior, which Uther called professionalism.

"We shall have a meeting after lunch in the war room." Uther said breaking the silence. He took his goblet. Arthur did not say a word. His gaze turned from the servants to the hot soup in front of him.

"There has been no answer from King Badon on a peace treaty yet. We await his decision." Uther continued. Arthur remained quiet, indifferent. He took a piece of bread and nibbled on it.

"You seem tired, Arthur." Uther observed.

"I didn't sleep very well last night." Arthur replied, trying not to be rude but there were other things on his mind.

"Neither did I, nor anybody else for that matter." Uther carved out a small piece of meat with his fork and knife. Arthur avoided eye contact.

"Are you not hungry?" Uther asked, making another attempt at conversation. He bit into a forkful of meat.

"Not really." Arthur played gloomily with the spoon.

"I hope you're not coming down with something." Uther said while chewed his food. "Perhaps Gaius could give you a tonic."

Arthur shrugged and brought the spoon to his lips. He sipped a bit of the broth and put the spoon down. It was a delicious chicken barley soup with a hint of sage. On any regular day, Arthur would have reached the bottom of the bowl by now and started on some savory roast. Merlin used to say that Arthur ate like a hungry giant because of all the food he was able to devour at one sitting. Being athletic and constantly training with his knights, he needed to replenish the expired energy. And Arthur could really pack in the food.

"How is Merlin doing?" Morgana, who had been sitting there patiently watching the interaction between king and prince, finally spoke. On that question, Gwen looked up.

"I haven't seen him today. But I imagine he's not doing well, considering the injuries." Arthur said. "He might die." Gwen stifled a gasp at the very words and when she realized she made a sound, her eyes turned downwards to stare at a spot on the floor.

"I'm sorry to hear that. I will be sure to pay him a visit later." Morgana decided. She was headstrong and not afraid of putting forth her own ideas. She was a gutsy woman who always had a clever and classy method of going about things to get her way. She was Uther's ward and apparently he was not someone that frightened her.

"Is that what's bothering you? Is it because of Merlin that you are in such low spirits?" Uther turned to study Arthur. Uther found it amusing and let out a chuckle. "He's never on time for anything. He's clumsy and manages to break just about everything he touches. You've had dozens of servants before, Arthur. Why are you so attached to this one?"

Arthur looked up. "Merlin may not be the perfect servant, but all things considered, he's a good person." With that, he looked down at his soup again.

"Well, you needn't worry. If he's under Gaius' care, there's no doubt he would be back serving you in no time." Uther sank his teeth into another forkful of roasted meat. His tone and body language didn't appear serious or even remotely concerned about Merlin. It was just something that he waved off like it was no big deal. He hoped Arthur would get over it soon.

"Morgana, what a beautiful dress you're wearing. Is it new?" Uther said referring to the fancy purple velvet gown that Morgana filled out so gracefully. It was so expected of Uther to change the subject whenever he grew bored of where a conversation was headed.

"No, I've worn it before. But the earrings are new." Morgana said pulling a few tresses of hair back to reveal dangling amethyst jewels dripping from her ears. "They're expensive and from the Far East."

"Is it really now? How Exquisite!" Uther said in a semi-amazed tone.

"Father, may I please be excused?" Arthur said. He had no appetite and really couldn't stand to be in the same room with someone as uncaring and cold as his father was at that moment.

"But Arthur, you barely touched your food." Uther replied. "You need to eat." Morgana eyed Arthur carefully as she took a sip out of her goblet. She saw that Arthur was greatly affected by what happened to his servant.

"I'm sorry but I'm just not that hungry right now." Arthur said.

"My Lord, Arthur appears to be a little under the weather today. Perhaps he needs a bit of fresh air. A walk would do him good and maybe even bring about some appetite as well." Morgana suggested.

There was always something extremely elegant about her, which had very little to do with her long neck and fierce gray eyes. Morgana could read Arthur like a book, or at least she liked to think that she did. After all, they did grow up together. She was able to tell when something bothered Arthur. Morgana was a very intelligent, perceptive, and strong-willed person despite the fact that she can come across as high-strung or pompous at times. She often had a habit of getting involved in matters that did not concern her. But then again, she had always been an inquisitive individual.

"Alright then. You may be excused." Uther granted. Arthur got up and bowed. He exchanged an understanding glance with Morgana before leaving the room.

Shortly after lunch, the meeting commenced. Arthur thought the afternoon meeting with Uther, the trusted court advisors, and the head knights would never end. It was difficult to concentrate on anything when his mind was clearly on something else. The people seemed to get more and more involved as the hours dragged on. He wished they would just get on with it and stop drawing up ridiculous answers to questions that would never happen in a million years. The longer the meeting went, the more bored and restless Arthur became. They even caught Arthur daydreaming several times when asked of his opinion.

This became such a habit that Uther had to relieve Arthur for the night. He feared it was the first sign of sickness, which wouldn't be unnatural. Arthur was stressed out and it really would be better if he had some proper rest. It wasn't like Arthur to be so distracted when strategizing was supposed to be his favorite subject. Arthur liked to be prepared and really got off on outsmarting his opponents. Arthur just couldn't focus on anything. His mind was preoccupied with so many other thoughts. Uther, thinking Arthur must be sick, sent him to Gaius for a remedy. It was exactly where he wanted to go, but not for medicine.

There was less movement around the castle grounds as the day drew to a close. Arthur walked across the courtyard and noticed the gusty winds have picked up once again. He already had his mind made up. He was going to retrieve something from his room before going to visit Merlin.

M.M.M.

Gaius was seated by Merlin's bedside near the hearth changing the dressing on the wounds with extra care. An unconscious and pale Merlin remained absolutely still. His complexion was as ashy as ever and his lips were a sickly shade of purple. Merlin's shirt had been pulled up just enough to allow Gaius to access the injury. Gaius dabbed and cleaned the wound as gently as possible. The creaking sound of the door opening startled him slightly, as he was not expecting visitors. He saw Arthur standing in the doorway holding a neatly folded down comforter with a fluffy white pillow on top of it. He walked in and closed the door softly with his foot.

"I – I just thought Merlin could use these." Arthur said and locked eyes with Gaius for a second. "Er, these are old and I really have no purpose for them. I figured there's no point in having them go to waste." He said with dignity. "Besides, it's going to be a cold night."

Gaius didn't have to second guess what Arthur's true intentions were. He had a feeling that the two boys were starting to rub off on each other. They were forming a bond – a friendship. It wasn't unusual for Arthur to show mercy for Merlin now. Gaius thought it was especially generous of Arthur to have brought the pillow and blanket. Merlin indeed changed Arthur. As far as Gaius could remember, Arthur had always been something of a spoiled brat, as the nature of people of who were born with a silver spoon in their mouth and nobility in their blood. Things were changing and Arthur was maturing. He was no longer the selfish person that only cared about himself. He was starting to see and feel things that he hadn't really gave any thought about before.

"You may set them down over there on the chair." Gaius instructed and continued to apply some sort of drippy gray pulpy poultice that resembled dusty oatmeal onto Merlin's wounds.

"Is he any better?" Arthur asked on his way over to the bed. He couldn't help but sneak a glance at Merlin's wound. To his horror, it looked worse than the day before. The bruising and discoloration started to set in. He also noticed that the skin surrounding the three large gashes had puffed to a deep red. Arthur found it hard to turn away from the grotesque sight. There was something horribly mesmerizing about it.

"He's sleeping." Gaius said softly. "Don't be alarmed. The swelling is a normal part of the healing process." He added when he saw the horrid look on Arthur's face.

"Is he going to be alright?" Arthur felt like he asked the question a hundred times already.

"It's really too soon to make any assumptions. Only time will tell." Gaius said truthfully. "Morgana and Gwen were here this afternoon. It was so nice of them to look after Merlin while I tended to the rest of my court duties."

Suddenly, Merlin moaned in his sleep when Gaius pressed too hard on the wound. The muscles in the young warlock's face scrunched up to a light wince before relaxing again. He gave a short heart-wrenching sigh and continued to sleep. Merlin's dangerously sick appearance frightened Arthur. If it wasn't for the shallow rise and fall of the stomach, one would really think he was a corpse. The blood loss really had its negative effects on poor Merlin. His skin tone was ashy and gray. Dark circles that collected under Merlin's eyes did not help. Gaius finished up with the new bandages and pulled Merlin's shirt down.

"I must go and get more water from the pump." Gaius said.

"I can stay with Merlin." Arthur volunteered. "Father has let me off the rest of the night. He thinks I'm coming down with an ailment."

"Very well." Gaius darted a suspicious glance but decided not to make any inquiries. He grabbed the wooden bucket and just as he was about to exit the room, Arthur called him.

"Is there anything you need me to do in the meantime?" Arthur asked, wanting to be helpful more than anything. The question surprised Gaius but he understood Arthur's need to feel useful at the deathbed of his friend.

"Well, you can help set up the blanket and pillow you brought. I think Merlin would appreciate that very much." With his back turned, Gaius couldn't help smiling as he headed out the door.

Arthur quietly picked up the pillow and feather-filled blanket from the chair and brought it over to Merlin's bed. He swapped the pillow first. He was timid in lifting up Merlin's bandaged head in fear that a single touch might shatter the fragile servant to pieces. Arthur also didn't want to cause Merlin any additional pain. Merlin seemed to acknowledge the comfort by slightly nudging his head deeper into the soft pillow. Next, Arthur removed the old thread-bare blankets that Gaius had covered Merlin in for extra warmth. Arthur noticed Merlin's thin frame. He knew Merlin was a skinny fellow but it never occurred to him how unhealthy Merlin looked. Perhaps this was a result from him being overworked. Arthur felt bad for having pushed Merlin so hard.

Arthur threw the new, softer, warmer blanket over Merlin and smoothed out the folds. Once he completed his task, he took vigil by Merlin's bedside staring at the rise and fall of Merlin's chest. With the new bedding, Merlin looked more comfortable, although, the blanket itself was so fluffy and massive that Merlin seemed to drown in it. It was so quiet that Arthur could hear the fire in the hearth snap lightly as it burned the wood. He wondered if Merlin knew he was here.

"Come on now Merlin. You have to be alright. Who else will I have to clean my room and polish my armor?" Arthur said tenderly. "You're more than a servant, you know. You're my friend and you have to get well so you can tell me what happened. How did you manage to escape a gargoyle?" It was so easy to talk to Merlin when he was an unconscious.

"Arrr – thur." Merlin suddenly mumbled in what appeared to be a troubled sleep. His brows furrowed and he breathed deeply.

"Merlin?" Arthur said. "I'm right here."

"No…" Merlin moaned uncomfortably. His eyes were closed, but breathing labored.

"You're having a nightmare." Arthur said, not sure what to do and looked eagerly for Gaius' return.

"Don't…Please don't hurt…" The young warlock rambled in his sleep.

"Merlin, it's alright. No one's going to hurt you. I won't let anyone or any _thing_ hurt you." Arthur said valiantly.

"Please don't hurt him….don't hurt Arthur." Merlin sobbed. Those words shocked Arthur. He wanted to put an end to the dream that was tormenting Merlin. Merlin's rapid breathing made Arthur uneasy and wished for Gaius' return. Locked away in his dream somewhere, a small whimper passed Merlin's bloodless lips. Arthur reached out and grabbed Merlin's shoulder, shaking him gently in hopes of waking him up.

"Don't kill him. Kill me instead…I'll take his place." Merlin's mouth contorted to a grimace as he blubbered out these words. There was so much pain and agony in his voice that it scared Arthur. A few tears escaped the corners of Merlin's closed eyes. What could evoke such words out of Merlin? And who was the source of the threat? Arthur was dumbfounded by Merlin's display of loyalty and sacrifice.

"Wake up, Merlin. Wake up! For heaven's sake, it's just a bad dream." Arthur said firmly. But after seeing Merlin shift wildly in the bed, he softened his tone. "You're scaring me Merlin. What's wrong? Why won't you wake up?"

Merlin breathing was still dreadfully labored and it seemed like for a few seconds, he was grasping madly for air. With his back arched, all the muscles in his frail body stiffened like as if some sort of force suddenly drove its way into him. Just when Arthur was about to panic and make a run for Gaius, Merlin's eyes shot open.

"Merlin?" Arthur said in a confused tone. Merlin's eyes were wide open but it didn't seem like he saw anything at all. There was something in his glassy river blue eyes that told Arthur he was not in touch with his surroundings. Arthur held Merlin's hand, hoping the connection would bring his friend back to reality.

"Blais is alive." Merlin uttered in a detached whisper before his eyes rolled back into his head and unconsciousness took his body once again. A few dots of perspiration formed on Merlin's forehead.

"Merlin!" Arthur called helplessly as he watched his friend faint away.

"What did he do to you Merlin?" Arthur gasped in horror. He felt sick to his stomach seeing how his friend was suffering. There were so many things he wanted to do. He wanted to hunt down the gargoyle and if Blais was indeed still alive, Arthur wanted to run his sword through him a thousand times for what he'd done to Merlin. He clearly messed with the wrong Pendragon. Arthur never felt so completely helpless in his life.

Gaius returned with the bucket of water in time to hear Arthur's words and see Merlin's exhausted appearance. By the looks of things, he knew something had happened. But he already knew what happened. He was aware of Merlin's dreams and heard an array of different ramblings. Gaius knew how to handle it. But judging from the traumatized look on Arthur's face, it was obvious that he witnessed something.

"Gaius! Thank goodness you're here! Merlin's had a fit." Arthur blurted. "You have to help him."

Gaius checked over Merlin and reassured Arthur that everything was alright now. He was neither surprised nor extremely concerned about Merlin's hysterics. Arthur put one and one together, and realized that Gaius knew more than he was saying.

"He's done it before, hasn't he?" Arthur said while looking squarely at Gaius.

"He's unwell." Gaius replied, shaking his head in dismay.

**End of Chapter 2**


	3. Scarred for Life

"Come on now, Merlin." Gaius coaxed in frustration. "You must eat _something_." He insisted while trying to feed a bed-ridden Merlin some soup.

In his agitated, semi-conscious state, Merlin moaned and turned his head away. He refused to take any of the food that Gaius was making him eat. Gaius sat on a stool by Merlin's bedside holding a warm wooden bowl of potato leek soup. His numerous attempts to spoon-feed Merlin turned out to be unsuccessful. Gaius tried to convince him to eat, but spoken language meant very little to Merlin. The young patient often grumbled in annoyance when Gaius put anything edible to his lips. Whether it was meat, bread, soup or fruit, Merlin simply refused to eat. All he wanted to do was sleep. Poor Merlin barely took in a single mouthful of food since the night of his demise.

"Merlin, you need food to keep up your strength." Gaius said in an exasperated tone. Merlin's only reply was a soft moan before resuming his deep sleep.

"Alright, you leave me no choice then." Gaius said, placing the bowl and spoon back on the table.

Gaius took a vial from the counter and unscrewed the cork. The elixir appeared to be some sort of runny dull green liquid. Raising Merlin gently by the back of the neck, he proceeded to slowly pour the contents of the vial into Merlin's mouth. But as soon as the liquid started trickling down Merlin's throat, he choked on it violently and spit it up. It was a signal for Gaius to stop pouring the medicine into the young warlock's mouth. Gaius realized getting nutrients into Merlin was going to be harder than he expected. Merlin grimaced slightly at the bitterness flavor of the medicine before his face relaxed and fell asleep. Defeated, the old physician wiped the mess off the boy's face with a towel.

"Have it your way." Gaius said as he lowered Merlin back onto the bed. "We will try again tomorrow."

Suddenly, Gaius caught some movement at the corner of his eye and turned his head towards the door. He noticed a tall robust silhouette standing in the darkness with arms crossed over his chest leaning against the door frame. Even in the shadows, Gaius could tell that it was Arthur.

"Arthur," Gaius called. "How long have you been standing there?"

"Long enough to see what just happened." Arthur answered as he came into the room and closed the door quietly behind him. "I – I was on my way to my room and thought I'd stop by en route and see how my servant was doing."

_Ha! We both know the servants quarters are nowhere near the rooms of the people of the high court. You came because you were concerned about Merlin. Convenience has nothing to do with it._ Gaius thought with a content look on his face.

"So, you were merely passing through?" Gaius toyed.

"Yes." Arthur's face turned beet red. Lying to Gaius was hard. For some reason he could never really get away with lying to Gaius. The old physician was one of those people who always seemed to be able to tell when someone was lying. Even when Arthur was a child, Gaius could see right through him. Maybe it was his years of experience or maybe it was the way he looked at him. "What?" Arthur asked when Gaius surveyed him.

"Oh, nothing at all, Sire." Gaius said as he busied himself with fixing Merlin's blanket. It was amusing to occasionally test Arthur on his true intentions when it came to Merlin, but Gaius knew when to take step back. "Merlin is making good use of the blanket and pillow you brought over. He's never had such a warm bed."

"I must say, the living conditions of this room are beyond poor. It is freezing in here, even with the fire going. I don't see how anyone can live like this. Why haven't you brought this matter to my father's attention?" Arthur asked as he warmed his hands in front of the fireplace.

"It's not really that bad." Gaius answered with a shrug.

"I must see to it that changes are made. It's a wonder why Merlin had never mentioned about this before." Arthur said. He stood by the foot of the bed, staring at the sleeping figure bundled up in blanket.

"Merlin's not one to complain about how hard he has it." Gaius smiled. "There's too much pride in him."

"I don't think it has to do with pride at all. It's because he's a complete idiot." Arthur blurted in a most demeaning yet affectionate tone.

"Well anyway, on behalf of Merlin, I would like to thank you again for your kindness." Gaius said referring to the bedding and dipped his head lightly in the direction of the prince. "I'm sure if Merlin were awake, he would do the same."

"It's nothing really. I wish I could do more for him." Arthur muttered. "Being that it was he who saved Camelot by bringing the Amulet of Avalon back."

Arthur watched Gaius carefully tend to the bandages around Merlin's head. After the old bandages were removed, Arthur saw the thick bruise on the side of Merlin's head where some hair was missing. He couldn't help but shake his head in pity. He didn't want to know the number of stitches Gaius used to close the wound. The details were just too gruesome. Arthur noticed the some dried blood had crusted along the seam. Aside from the messiness of the wound, the rest of Merlin's dark hair was slightly disheveled but nonetheless clean. Gaius had done a fine job of wiping away any trace of blood and soil.

"What happened there?" Arthur asked, feeling quite out of his element.

"Blunt force trauma to the head. Looks like someone hit him with some sort of object, perhaps the pommel of a sword." Gaius diagnosed.

"You mean a _man_ did this to him? One of King Badon's knights?" Arthur accused, feeling slightly dizzy with rage.

"It seems that way." Gaius spoke truthfully.

_What kind of coward would strike a defenseless servant? And an unarmed one at that._ Arthur questioned silently as a spark of madness boiled in his heart. He suddenly felt the need to pounce on the man who did this and pound him to a bloody pulp.

"I swear I'll kill him. I'll – I'll find him and I'll kill him." Arthur murmured through clenched teeth. His hands balled up into fists. Controlling his temper was never easy. He was young and there was way too much fury and passion in him. He hated being helpless and right then, he wanted to saddle up and personally settle the score.

"Slow down now. You don't want to do anything rash." Gaius warned. "Seeking revenge won't change what's already been done."

"Maybe not, but it'll sure make _me_ feel a bit better." Arthur retorted. He wanted to hit something.

The fat candle on the table glowed and flickered slightly as a light draft swirled around the room. Arthur felt more and more horrible as he stood there watching Gaius wipe away puss that oozed from the nasty contusion on Merlin's head with a handful of cottonseed. It was late in the evening and Gaius hadn't once stopped taking care of Merlin. But it was for good reason, especially since Merlin's condition had topped the injuries and ailments of the entire castle grounds. He required Gaius' attention the most. Arthur's attention travelled to the untouched bowl of soup that Merlin refused to eat. Next to the soup lay a few crusts of old bread scattered on a small plate. Perhaps Merlin was not wrong in not wanting to eat. The runny cream-colored soup didn't appear to be brimming with savory excitement. And the day-old bread was probably stale and hardened. Arthur held nothing against Gaius' cooking techniques, but it didn't take a food connoisseur to know that the soup was most bland and unappetizing.

"He hasn't been taking anything I feed him." Gaius said when he saw Arthur staring at the bowl full of soup. "I've tried every food possible, even his favorite – baked yams. He just won't eat."

_Baked yams? How curious._ Arthur thought as he rubbed his index finger and thumb on the point of his chin.

All this time, Arthur never knew it was Merlin's favorite. Of all the foods in the world, Merlin liked yams. Arthur thought it rather humorous. It was such a simple, low maintenance and inexpensive favorite. It also never occurred to Arthur how little it took to make Merlin happy. In contrast, when it came to favorite food, Arthur liked a mouth-watering rump of venison, seasoned to perfection and slowly roasted over an open fire, then sliced and drenched with a warm succulent cranberry spice sauce. Merlin's simplicity made Arthur slightly embarrassed at his own lavishness. It pained Arthur to know so little about his friend – especially one who had saved his life so many times. Come to think of it, he didn't know much about Merlin at all. His friend was a complete mystery to him. He didn't even know his likes and dislikes, as friends ought to know. All Arthur remembered doing was bullying and berating the poor servant on all the things he had done wrong and dispensing punishment like there was no tomorrow. He was suddenly consumed with guilt.

"I tried to get him to take a protein tonic. I figured if he won't take solid food, he should get the proper nutrients into his system one way or another. But he refused that too." Gaius said while shaking his head. "He hasn't eaten so much as a crumb in the past two days. And he needs his strength."

"Two days is a long time not to have consumed anything." Arthur said. "Should we be worried?"

"Right now, he just wants to sleep." Gaius finished up wrapping fresh bandages around Merlin's head wound.

"He seems horribly exhausted." Arthur observed. Merlin's lips parted slightly like as if he was breathing through his mouth instead of his nose.

"The blood loss has left him extremely weak." Gaius said.

"Has he had any more hysterics? Er, nightmares, whatever you call it." Arthur inquired. He followed Gaius to the table and took a seat in a chair. Gaius' tired, baggy and wrinkled dark eyes stared at Arthur. He took a deep breath like as if he wanted to tell Arthur a secret but hesitated and withdrew.

"Merlin's life will not be the same after that dreadful night. The trauma of what happened to him will scar his mind forever. I can't imagine the terror and fear of facing not only a powerful sorcerer, but also escaping from a gargoyle, whose main order was to seek and kill Merlin." Gaius said. "Luck doesn't even begin to describe how Merlin was able to make it back alive. Arthur, do you know anything about gargoyles?"

"Not – not really. I do know they are powerful beasts." Arthur stammered, feeling quite the idiot himself at not being able to answer the question.

"Gargoyles are indeed powerful beasts. In that, you are correct. In ancient times, gargoyles were originally created by great wizards to guard and protect their realm of magic from evil sorcerers. Can you imagine how much strength a gargoyle should possess in order to serve their purpose? Many great wizards came together and contributed in creating this beast that would ward off evil." Gaius explained.

"So, at one point in time, gargoyles were _good_?" Arthur said in amazement.

"Yes." Gaius replied. "Until an alteration – a great betrayal in the wizard world. One of the wizards abused the power set onto the gargoyles and sold it to a dark warlord, who really turned out to be a sorcerer in disguise. Well, you can pretty much guess what happened after that."

"The sorcerer used the gargoyles against the good wizards." Arthur said.

"Because of this rift between good and evil, the remaining gargoyles were forced to pick a side. The evil side enticed them with temptation and the resilience of strength and power – freedom from the diligent control of the good wizards. And because of this, they succumbed to the promises of the darkness." Gaius continued. "But the evil sorcerer had other plans for the gargoyles. They were careful not to allow the gargoyles to have too much power for fear they would turn against the sorcerers themselves."

Arthur absorbed the old physician's words. Gaius paused briefly when he thought he heard Merlin give a small moan.

"The evil sorcerers were clever. When they caught the gargoyles off guard, they enchanted them with an irreversible spell. From then on, they were made to obey the sorcerers' _every_ command." Gaius finished.

"They became slaves." Arthur said.

"That is correct." Gaius confirmed. "And it is in the nature of a gargoyle to obey their master despite the consequences. When they are given an order by their master, they will not let anything get in the way of getting the deed done."

Gaius stopped for a second. He looked pitifully at Merlin, who was still asleep in the bed under the fluffiness of the blanket. The young warlock's face had turned innocently to face the hearth.

"I knew from the moment I saw Merlin's wounds that it was the doings of a gargoyle. There was no mistaking that the three distinctive cuts were made by the sharp talons of a gargoyle. It is usually enough to kill someone with just one strike. Merlin is lucky to be alive." Gaius said.

"If a gargoyle is bound by his master's orders, does this mean it could still come after Merlin?" Arthur demanded in earnest.

"I'm afraid so." Gaius answered solemnly. Hearing this made Arthur's blood boil and adrenaline run wildly in his veins.

"There must be something we could do about the gargoyle. I will not stand by idly and wait for the gargoyle to come finish Merlin off." Arthur nearly shouted in excitement but lowered his voice once he realized it. "I'll send some men to hunt it down."

"No." Gaius said firmly. "No one has ever survived an encounter with a gargoyle. I would say Merlin is the first. Your men are no match for a gargoyle."

"Then I will go." Arthur said valiantly.

"You mustn't." Gaius pleaded.

"I am an exceptional and well-trained swordsman. Everyone knows I'm the best."

"I do not doubt your skill, Arthur. But you mustn't go after the gargoyle."

"Give me one good reason why not." He said in a hot-headed tone.

Gaius sighed at the young prince's stubbornness and lack of patience. "Gargoyles have a keen sense of smell. They can catch a scent a mile away. Arthur, it's been almost three days since Merlin made it back to Camelot. Did it ever occur to you _why_ the gargoyle hadn't found him yet?"

"Well, no." Arthur muttered. "That is a good point. Why hasn't it?"

"You have surely forgotten about the Amulet of Avalon." Gaius reminded. "The amulet protects Camelot from the gargoyles. Once the amulet had been restored, the gargoyles cannot come near the kingdom."

"So in order for Merlin to be safe, he must not leave Camelot." Arthur said.

"That is decidedly so." Gaius replied. "Until we can find a way to lift the mark on Merlin's head."

"Oh, I'm sure being trapped in Camelot would sit really well with Merlin." The prince said ironically.

Somehow, Arthur wasn't completely disappointed. Nothing could harm Merlin as long as he remained in Camelot. It wasn't such bad news to know that his friend would be safe and the amulet was there to protect the kingdom.

"Gaius," Arthur said after a brief moment of silence. His voice softened. "Do _you_ think Blais is still alive? It was something Merlin said in his sleep the other day. He said _Blais is alive._ I just can't get it out of my head." He waited for Gaius to say something, anything. But Gaius remained quiet. "Please, Gaius. I should have a right to know if you think there is a remote chance that Blais is undeniably alive."

"I wish I could give you an answer. But the truth is, I don't know." Gaius said.

"But Merlin said…"

"Merlin has suffered a tremendous amount of trauma." Gaius interrupted. "It isn't uncommon for his fears to transfer into nightmares."

Gaius hoped Arthur would be satisfied with that answer. It was all he could do under such circumstances. Until he was sure of it, Gaius decided it would be best if he said as little as possible. Besides, Merlin had not been conscious or coherent long enough to carry on a meaningful conversation. There were so many pieces of the puzzle that needed to fall into place. Gaius couldn't give a proper answer even if he tried.

"Wuh – uh." Merlin mumbled and shifted in his bed.

Arthur followed Gaius as he got up and went to Merlin's bedside. They watched Merlin attentively to see what he would do or say next. Merlin mumbled something else and absentmindedly pushed the blanket back with his spindly fingers. Arthur caught a glimpse of Merlin's gaunt collar bone under his loose fitting sand-colored tunic. It was apparent that Merlin had lost a great deal of weight and appeared more skeletal than ever. Arthur was full of pity and remorse.

"Wah - Water…" Merlin's voice came in a small weak whisper.

"Water! He wants water." Arthur nearly exclaimed as he deciphered Merlin's words. A kind of excitement beamed in his heart in hearing Merlin request for something.

"Arthur, help me get him up so I can give him the water." Gaius said as he fetched a cup of water.

Arthur didn't know where to begin. He had never done this sort of thing before – this hands-on experience of tending to someone. He pulled the blanket back and sat on the side of Merlin's bed. He hesitated before slipping one awkward arm under and across Merlin's bony shoulders, carefully lifting the boy to an upright position. The first thing that Arthur noticed was Merlin's limpness. Merlin felt like a bag of skin and bones. It was like trying to make a large puppet sit up. Merlin appeared dazed and confused. His eyes were drooped and barely able to open.

Lying in the same position for such a long time made Merlin tired and he attempted to stretch. But as he did so, a stab of pain exploded in Merlin's side. A bitter grimace formed on his face and he gave a pain-stricken shriek, which scared the living daylights out of Arthur. The horror of facing gruesome cockatrices, menacing griffins, and enchanted knights from the dead were nothing compared to witnessing his one and only true friend writhe in pain. Hearing Merlin scream was something Arthur never bore witness to. It was unimaginable and terrifying. The pain was extremely bad for Merlin.

"I'm sorry, Merlin!" Arthur exclaimed nervously, though not quite sure what he was apologizing for. Arthur's face turned white.

"It's alright Merlin. There, there..." Gaius coaxed. "You need to stay still or your wounds will open again." It surprised Arthur to see Gaius calm and collected. He seemed to know exactly how to handle these situations. If he was hiding any apprehensiveness, he sure didn't show it.

Merlin settled down and his heavy breathing stabilized after a while. His eyes opened to small slits. Although Merlin appeared to be looking straight at Arthur, it was uncertain whether Merlin actually acknowledged who was holding him. Merlin's river blue eyes did not seem to recognize the prince. Gaius brought the cup to Merlin's lips and slowly tilted the cup. Merlin tasted the water and gulped it down feverishly. Arthur watched Merlin suck in water like as if every mouthful of water were to be his last. When Merlin finished, Gaius proceeded to rip the center of the stale bread that had been lying on the plate on the table and put it in Merlin's mouth, hoping this would prompt the boy to eat. Just when Gaius thought Merlin was going to reject the food, Merlin chewed the old bread slowly and swallowed it.

"Good, he's finally eating." Gaius said in approval and smiled at Arthur. It was definitely a breakthrough. Gaius proceeded to put another piece into Merlin's mouth, and another, and another. After about the fifth piece or so, Merlin moaned and turned his face away when Gaius put it to his lips.

"Alright." Gaius said to Merlin. "That was more than you had eaten in the last few days. It's a start."

Merlin closed his eyes, winced slightly, and went back to sleep. Arthur lowered Merlin back onto the bed and tucked him in. He knelt down by Merlin's bedside. He watched Merlin's blank face and thought again about all the things that needed to change.

"He's pretty lucky to have a friend like you." Gaius finally said, breaking the silence.

"I'm afraid I haven't been much of a good friend to him lately." Arthur said. "I trust him with my life, yet I've treated him so poorly." He confessed. He never thought he would reveal his innermost thoughts to anyone. But it was hard keeping all things bottled up inside. Even a prince needed someone to confide in sometimes. Probably aside from Merlin, Gaius was the only other person who would listen and not judge him.

"He doesn't take it personally." Gaius replied. "Truth be told, he thinks very highly of you, despite his often grumbling manner."

"All this shouldn't have happened. If only he told me what he was up to. He wouldn't have ended up like this." Arthur said.

"If he told you, you would never have allowed him to do what he did." Gaius said. "Perhaps that was the reason he had to go alone."

"Maybe so, but I would have gone with him." Arthur sighed. "So, he's going to be fine now, isn't he Gaius?"

"Well, he's shown a bit of improvement but he's not completely out of danger yet. We will have to wait and see."

"This is just not fair. He feels nothing except pain. I can see it in his eyes." Arthur nodded at Merlin. "He was looking right at me, but he didn't see _me._ It was like he didn't even know who I was. If he recognized me, the Merlin I know would've said something smart."

"Arthur, give him time." Gaius said.

"Gaius, is it alright if I stayed here tonight?" Arthur said suddenly. The sudden unusual request caught Gaius off guard. And what caught Gaius even more off guard was that Arthur asked. The prince never asked. He always told. The prince gave orders and those below him followed. It was routine. But for Arthur to ask, it meant a great humbling change for him. Gaius was impressed beyond belief.

"But my cramped chamber is hardly fit for a prince." Gaius said.

Arthur shook his head. "Tonight, I'm not a prince. Tonight, I'm just Merlin's friend. I won't take up much space."

"Oh, what would your father say if he knew about this?" Gaius asked.

"My father will never know of this because NO ONE will tell him." Arthur said while eyeing Gaius, hoping he caught the hint.

"Very well then. I don't see why you can't stay." Gaius was not about to say no to the prince. "You can take my bed."

"No, no. This chair will do." Arthur pointed to a sturdy old birch arm chair adjacent to Merlin's makeshift bed by the fireplace. Gaius spent a lot of time sitting in that chair by the fire stripping herbal leaves from stems. Though not extremely comfortable, it was his favorite chair.

"What? Sleep on that chair? It would be uncomfortable." Gaius said and stopped short when he saw the if-I-say-so-then-I-say-so look on Arthur's face. Gaius often thought Arthur mirrored Uther with that look. He had it down to the very crease on his forehead. There was no arguing with the prince since he already made his mind up about sleeping on the chair.

"Alright, but only if you're sure. I'll get you some blankets. It will be a cold night."

"No need to fuss. I will just use Merlin's old blankets." Arthur said.

Arthur insisted on doing this not only as a punishment for himself because he felt guilty and responsible for Merlin's situation, but also because he wanted to know what it was like to live like Merlin – if only for one night. Merlin lived a peasant's life and did not have the luxuries available to him the way Arthur had. It didn't matter if he had a few scraps of meat or a couple of boiled potatoes for dinner. His daily necessities were met when he had a roof over his head and a full stomach before going to bed. Merlin never knew what it was like to dine among royalty, dress up and attend fancy balls, or feast on rare and flavorful foods prepared only by the court kitchens. Perhaps Merlin would never be able to enjoy all the glitz of the upper class. But he deserved something.

The young warlock did not have nobility in his bloodline. He'd seen dukes and viscounts many times entering and leaving the castle grounds on their fancy horse drawn carriages and all decked out in fashionable and expensive clothing. He would stare at them in awe but never once did he envy them or dare to wish for what they had. Dressed in a plain linen tunic, belted pants and trusty neckerchief, Merlin was quite satisfied. He led a simple lifestyle and he didn't mind it because he was happy. Of course he often wondered what it would be like to have it all just for one day. But he wouldn't trade what he had for all the money in the world. Being Merlin kept him humble and honest and he liked it better that way.

Arthur, however, was different. He was born into royalty and lived all his life being pampered with the best of everything. Because he was King Uther's son, Arthur had everything he ever wanted – the finest swords, the grandest attire, top of the line thoroughbred stallions, specially made gourmet meals. While growing up, he was taught by the most prestigious educators and well-trained in physical combat by only the best - his father. The young prince never had to consider what it was like to be poor and have all the extravagance of being a prince taken away from him. In his younger days, this was something he often took for granted because he believed he always had money to fall back on. The thought never occurred to him that he should ever lose his privileges. Wild and reckless, spoiled and powerful rich boy – that was him. Getting away with murder was his middle name. Now, he didn't feel so high and mighty anymore. He was beginning to realize how he had the power to make change.

A thick white candle on the table had reduced to a small puddle of melted wax as the night went on. Its flame had burnt out a long time ago. There were no noises in the room except for the slow crackling of the fire in the fireplace and an occasional soft wheeze coming from Merlin as he breathed. Arthur had finally fallen asleep on the chair a few feet away from Merlin's bed. His tousled blond head rested awkwardly against an old buckwheat pillow. Slouched down in the chair to what seemed like an uncomfortable position, Arthur was swathed in old blankets. Exhaustion had taken him under and he appeared to be deep in sleep.

Gaius, however, was still lying awake on his bed in the corner of the room. He studied Merlin's face. The moonlight cast an almost yellowish glow through the window. Gaius watched Merlin's sleeping facial features. He noticed how young and innocent Merlin looked in his sleep. Years seemed to shave off instantly. He was just a boy – a boy who possessed magic so powerful that he didn't understand. Because of the magic in Merlin's blood, there were some things the boy saw that no one else could. And for that reason alone, Gaius was anxious for Merlin to get well. Gaius needed talk to Merlin about Blais. He needed to know exactly what happened that night and what Merlin saw in his dreams that haunted him so dreadfully. Premonition or just a harmless dream, Gaius needed to know. But right then, all he could do was wait. Merlin was in such bad shape that being conscious long enough to talk about it wouldn't be possible, at least not yet.

Gaius had a bad feeling. He was worried for the future of Camelot, but more so for the safety and well-being of his ward, Merlin.

**End of Chapter 3**


	4. Merlin Wakes

The beautiful Lady Morgana was seated gracefully on a padded red velvet bench at her vanity table. There was an elaborate set of hair brushes with handsome ivory handles on the table. Next to it was an array of delicate and expensive-looking hair combs lying side by side. Morgana was dressed in a fashionable long sleeved off-the-shoulder dark green silk gown highlighted tastefully with white organza. She sat facing the huge oak wood framed mirror. Her debonair reflection stood poised and collected. She observed Gwen, her maidservant, through the mirror.

Gwen showed great patience and concentration in brushing Morgana's long, thick dark mane of hair that flowed to the small of her back. She did not look up to meet her lady's gaze even once the entire morning. She went about her duties in an odd quietness that surprised Morgana. Gwen was usually the cheerful little spirit who always came sporting a smile and an armful of fragrant white jasmines for the room. The flowers continued, but the infectious smile could no longer be seen. In exchange, her tanned freckled face was etched with worry and sorrow. Morgana knew the reason for this change in behavior.

"He _is_ going to be alright, you know." Morgana finally spoke after a long silence. Her bright red lips pressed together. It was unlike Gwen to be so reserved. She was usually quite animated and had something to talk about. Gwen looked up for the first time and caught the look of compassion in her lady's eyes through the mirror.

"I'm sorry, my lady. I'm afraid I have not been keeping you good company the last few days." Gwen said apologetically and quickly turned her attention back to brushing Morgana's hair.

"Merlin is your friend and you should have a right to be concerned." Morgana said.

"I just can't stop thinking about it." Gwen said and paused in brushing. "He's so badly injured. Gaius says Merlin's been attacked by a gargoyle."

"Poor Merlin. It is rather unfortunate." Morgana shook her head and stared at her reflection in the mirror.

"He's been sleeping an awful lot, last I heard from Gaius. But at least he's demanded water from time to time and has eaten a few bites of bread." Gwen started to gain a little bit of liveliness as she spoke about her friend.

"That sounds like progress. It's a sure sign of recovery then." Morgana said with conviction. "I'm glad for it. Merlin has always been an odd character but with a good heart - _and_ he has a tendency to keep Arthur rather amused."

"That much is true." Gwen offered a smile and went back to stroking Morgana's hair with a brush.

There was often a line drawn between master and servant – a sort of boundary. Servants were taught to be obedient and know their place. They were not allowed to talk back or give opinions. Servants' opinions were considered irrelevant and therefore unimportant. But over the years, Morgana had come to adore Gwen and saw her as more so of a friend and confidant than a functional maidservant. Between the two of them, they traded secrets and often laughed at each other's jokes. But in front of the court and King Uther, they had to play the part of Lady and her loyal maid. Morgana knew how strict Uther was about "keeping the hired help in their place." The last thing she wanted was to provoke Uther into getting rid of her maidservant. Morgana and Gwen have always managed to cheer each other up when things got troublesome. Seeing Gwen's gloominess saddened Morgana.

"We'll go visit him." Morgana suddenly suggested. "Right now."

"Really? Do you mean it?" Gwen stammered. Her eyes lit up.

"Would you like that?" Morgana asked.

"Oh, very much so!" Gwen replied excitedly. She suddenly frowned. "But my lady, what about your drawing lesson?"

"Hmmm." Morgana thought carefully. "Suddenly, I've developed a tremendous headache." She said feigning her ailment with a mischievous smirk appearing across her lips. "It looks like we will have to cancel my drawing lesson today." She shrugged and sounded not the least bit disappointed.

King Uther believed that a lady of the high court should be well-rounded and knowledgeable in the arts, music, and dance. It was the fashionable thing at the time for all sophisticated and noble women to represent beauty and talent. Henceforth, he practically required Morgana to take such lessons and expected her to excel in each area. As a young girl, Morgana was less enthusiastic about such activities and would rather spend her time learning how to handle a sword and other weapons. But nonetheless, she respected Uther's wishes for her to be a "proper" lady and conformed to his insistence on taking lessons. But Morgana found it far more interesting in watching Arthur's sword and fencing lessons than being stuck in the drawing room practicing the harp or rehearsing the steps to the estampie. Even though the lessons taught her to be graceful and smooth in character, Morgana preferred to learn the things that the boys learned. She wanted to handle a sword. She wanted to be good at riding a horse. She wanted to learn hand to hand combat. Morgana was a girl with ambition in her eyes and believed she had no limitations, no matter what people told her.

"Oh, are you sure you want to do that? King Uther will not be pleased if he finds out." Gwen said worriedly.

"Well, do you want to see Merlin or not?" Morgana demanded.

"Er, yes – but…"

"So, I'll send a message to my dear old art instructor that we are canceling our class for today due to this stubborn headache that just refuses to go away." Morgana said firmly but with a wink of her eye.

"Yes, my lady." Gwen answered. "Thank you." She added shortly after.

"Don't thank me. I should also like to see for myself how Merlin's doing as well." Morgana said. "Come now, finish up my hair and we shall be on our way." Morgana saw through the reflection of the mirror that Gwen was in a much happier mood. With the corners of her ruby red lips slightly turned upwards, Morgana was pleased that she was able to cheer up her friend.

M.M.M.

"Arthur, where have you been all morning?" King Uther yelled when he spotted his son from a distance walking aimlessly towards him with head hung low and not in any particular hurry. Uther's thunderous voice traveled down the corridor and bounced off the walls. He sounded bothered, as usual. Arthur could see his father coming towards him, his long cape billowing behind as he marched.

"Father." Arthur almost gasped in surprise, like as if he wasn't expecting to run into his father in this wing of the castle.

"I – I – I was practicing with our trainees. Things ended a bit later than expected." Arthur blurted before his father could say a word. "I was just on my way to the war room."

"We may be at war with King Badon at any given moment. And here you are – off gallivanting, wasting precious time and treating this like wind in your ear." Uther scolded.

"I'm sorry, father. I didn't mean to keep everyone waiting." Arthur mumbled and started at the floor. "It will not happen again."

Uther studied Arthur with a careful eye. And after a moment of silence, he sighed heavily and spoke in a calmer voice. "Son, I know it is difficult being your age. You're young and would rather not be bombarded with all these responsibilities of being a king just yet. I expect so much out of you and sometimes, I come off a bit too strict. But there will come a time when you alone will need to face these problems and make important decisions in the best interest of Camelot. The kingdom will be yours one day and I just want you to be prepared."

Arthur's blue eyes looked up to meet his father's gaze. "I understand, father. I promise I won't disappoint you."

Uther then smiled for the first time in a long time. He put a big calloused hand affectionately on his son's shoulder. "I trust you will keep that promise. You still have so much to learn."

They walked down the corridor together. Boots scuffed the cobble stoned floors and capes flapped as their broad steps carried them closer to the atrium. Neither Uther nor Arthur said a word to each other. Uther's mind was on King Badon while Arthur's mind was on Merlin. They may be the same blood but they couldn't be more different.

"The messenger boy that we sent to King Badon has returned this morning. Badon is currently reviewing the pact and will send one of his messengers with the verdict." Uther finally spoke.

"Does this mean we won't go to war at all?" Arthur asked.

"We shouldn't assume anything. I do not trust them but for the sake of our kingdom, we must try to extend the olive branch whenever necessary." Uther said. "However, we must not forgive them so easily for torching two of our villages."

"So basically, the fate of the future lies in Badon's hands." Arthur said. "What should happen if he refuses the pact?"

"Then we will have no choice but to go to war." Uther said gravely. Right then, Uther stopped in his tracks and faced his son. "Look son, I do not wish for war. You must know that war is a very messy situation. It is something that no one may recover from. Thousands will perish. Innocent people will get caught in the crossfire. Understand that it's the very last alternative that we must face. When we go to war, it would be because there is no other choice. Do you understand?" He said intensely.

"Yes, father. And I will stand by your side whatever happens." Arthur said loyally.

Uther smiled and cupped a hand on Arthur's cheek warmly. It was a rare moment of tenderness that Arthur was not used to seeing. But nonetheless, he was touched by the gesture. Seeking approval and gratification was all Arthur ever wanted as child. He wanted his father to be proud of him.

They continued walking through the atrium and passed several corridors before reaching the war room, where everyone was waiting for the king to arrive. Uther went in and everyone stood to greet him. Arthur, being the last one into the room, closed the thick wooden doors behind him and the meeting commenced. The strategy meeting took several hours. Everyone was glad when Uther called for a much needed fifteen minute break in between and ordered the servants to bring in beverages and refreshments. Arthur's behavior throughout the conference was quite reserved and spoke only when questioned. He kept finding his gaze fall upon the spot where a bloodied Merlin collapsed that night. The floor had been cleaned since then leaving no traces of the blood stains. Every now and then when no one was watching, he would steal a glance at the spot.

Once the meeting was deemed over for the day, Arthur was the first one to head out the door. Anxious for a breath of fresh air to clear his head, he ventured out into the empty courtyard by himself. The frigid air bit at his skin and he could see his breaths in front of him as he exhaled. He walked past the big stone pillars and climbed the wide steps onto the upper terrace, where a frosty Pendragon banner flapped softly over the side. Arthur stood there looking out into the distance. He drew the collar of his cape higher to retain some warmth.

The sun was setting in the west. West was also the direction of King Badon's land, which was about a day's walk away. Camelot possessed rich soil and therefore flourished with good pastures and fertile land for cropping. Some trade disputes and greed over land turned King Badon against King Uther. One thing led to another and things got very complicated. Threats and intimidations began and escalated. King Uther held up all trade in and out of King Badon's territory. King Badon, in turn, sent his men to torch two of Camelot's outer villages. They have been on the brink of war for a month now. Uther and Badon were still negotiating. There was so much tension between the two kingdoms.

Arthur watched the sky turn into a shade of creamy orange. For the first time in his life, he wondered about the future. What would become of Camelot if they were driven into war? A victory was most desirable but if they should lose the battle, what would become of the people of Camelot? What would become of the Pendragons? How different would life be? The power would certainly be diminished and he would no longer be living such a fruitful lifestyle. His thoughts then traveled to Merlin. And what about Merlin's future? What was going to happen to him? Is he going to live long enough to see it?

Arthur was interrupted by the gurgling sounds that emanated from his empty stomach. He hadn't realized how hungry he was until then. There was nothing like taking in a good hot supper to warm up his body and soul. For the first time all day, Arthur thought about food. He imagined that dinner was probably being prepared at the moment and would be laid out in the dining room soon. The court kitchens were only a short distance from where he stood. He could smell the spices, simmering sauces and warm roasting of meats as the wind carried the aromas to him. Then an idea popped into his head and he smiled. He jogged down the wide steps and walked towards the kitchens.

M.M.M.

"WHERE ARE THE BLACKBERRIES? WHICH ONE OF YOU IDIOTS TOOK MY BLACKBERRIES? I NEED THEM TO MAKE THE SPICE SAUCE FOR THE ROAST." A high shrilled female voice shrieked in near panic. The voice belonged to Matilda May, or as most people called her – Mrs. Mattie. She was the one in charge of the court kitchens. She ran the entire kitchen along with all the servants under her authority. There was not one dish that she didn't know how to prepare. Mrs. Mattie may be a loud and patronizing woman but she was a superb cook and was able to turn even the most boring food into something gourmet. She was a middle-aged, short, brash woman with thick pudgy fingers and a rounded pillow of a figure.

Chaos was breaking loose in the kitchen. This was almost always the case when meal times were near. The stress levels often reached a high during these times. Deadlines were critical and everyone seemed to be in everyone's way. The heat from the fiery ovens consumed the whole room in a most uncomfortable way. There were more than a dozen sub cooks and novice cooks swarming around the place, all equally frazzled. The clanging sounds of pots and pans and banging of doors circulated the kitchen. Instructions as well as insults were being thrown around. But there was no time to hold a grudge. Preparing breakfast, lunch, and dinner for the king and his trusted advisors were the most important part of the cooks' day. The kitchen was consumed with activity and usually everything that seemed to be a mess finally comes together in harmony before the king's place at the table.

One of the novices brought over a cup of blackberries to Mrs. Mattie and it seemed to calm her nerves. Just as she was about to turn around, she accidentally backed right into Arthur, who had been unannounced and standing right behind her.

"Prince Arthur!" The woman gasped like as if she'd just seen a ghost, nearly dropping the blackberries. "I'm so sorry, Sire. I – I didn't see you there." Mrs. Mattie stammered as she bowed her head low.

"It is quite alright." Arthur cut in.

The rest of the kitchen heard her exclamation and stopped what they were doing. For the first time all day, the kitchen was quiet as they all stared at the prince in awe. The only sounds were the bubbling of stews over the fire and the occasional puffing of steam through the lids of boiling liquids. It was very rare that any member of the high court would come visit the kitchens. Usually, the proper procedure would be for Uther or Arthur to send a messenger to relay their wishes. The king and prince were not known to travel to the kitchens at all, so this was truly an anomaly.

"Er, carry on everyone." Arthur said loudly when he realized all eyes were on him. "Go on, continue what you were doing." He repeated when no one moved. A few people started moving about in reluctance but all the while still looking at Arthur suspiciously.

"What brings my Lord to the kitchens?" Mrs. Mattie asked ever so politely.

"I don't have a reason. I haven't been down this way in a long time, and just thought I'd stop by and see how dinner was coming along." Arthur answered. But of course, he wasn't there for a change of scenery. He had a reason for visiting the kitchens.

"Is there anything I can do for you perhaps?" Mrs. Mattie looked worried and nervous at the same time – like as if this was some sort of test.

"Nothing, Mrs. Mattie. You may go about your business." Arthur said.

"Are you sure? Is there a special request or change of menu?" Mrs. Mattie pressed.

"No. Everything is fine the way it is." Arthur said. "Now, you better finish up with those blackberries, or we will be missing that delicious spice sauce for dinner." He offered a smile and pointed to the cup of blackberries in her hands that she was squeezing rather tightly.

"What? Oh. Er, yes. Alright." Mrs. Mattie stuttered and just appeared to remember the blackberries. She inched back to the counter, her eyes never really leaving Prince Arthur.

Arthur walked stiffly with hands behind his back – a strut that he learned from his father and mimicked quite well in fact. He marched up the aisle lined with endless dishes and trays containing an array of ingredients and spices. He passed by the burlap sacks of ground vegetables and rice that lined the way to the pantry. Feeling the weight of everyone's eyes on him, he stopped and turned around.

"Please continue cooking. It is an _order_." Arthur said firmly.

Frightened, everyone in the kitchen quickly obeyed. Soon, the sounds returned - the slicing and dicing, chopping and tenderizing, clanging and banging of pots, even a low drone of conversation started up again. After several minutes, the kitchen was fired up again and it appeared Arthur had been forgotten for the time being. Mrs. Mattie, however, kept Arthur in the corner of her eye and glanced quizzically at him from time to time.

Arthur made his way across a counter full of meat and chicken marinating. He stopped for a moment and looked around like as if he was searching for something. But an aroma of freshly baked bread distracted him and he followed the scent to the bakers at the far end of the kitchen. He watched from a short distance as a tall thin baker removed loaf after loaf of golden crusted bread from the stone oven with a long wooden spatula. The baker placed the new breads on an adjacent table to cool.

Arthur took a small cloth from a nearby table and waited for the baker to turn his back. Once this happened, Arthur quickly grabbed a medium sized hot loaf from the table, wrapped it in the cloth and tucked it into the folds of his cape. The baker did turn around and met Arthur in the eye.

"Smells delicious. Carry on. Carry on. Great job." Arthur rambled. The baker beamed at the compliment from the prince. He didn't suspect a thing.

Arthur then walked innocently to a table filled with other foods that were ready to be served to the king and the other stuffy people of the high court. There were all sorts of tasty foods piled high in fancy silver platters. These items were supposedly the best of the best and no one but the deemed "important" people were to even venture close enough to taste it. Arthur contemplated vigilantly before making his final decision.

Arthur pocketed a wedge of cheese, as well as a few links of grilled pork sausage. He then placed a block of butter in another cloth and carefully tucked it into the pockets of his cape. There were a few other foods he wanted to take but, they would be required being transported on a plate rather than in his pockets. He stared at the roast beef and hesitated for a moment before taking it. He realized that Mrs. Mattie was still working on the blackberry sauce so the roast beef wouldn't become mush in his pockets. He remembered Gaius saying beef was often a good source of protein. With a cape growing heavy with food, Arthur slipped out of the kitchen leaving Mrs. Mattie in bewilderment. She wondered what on earth the young prince was up to.

M.M.M.

Perhaps it was the scurrying of a mouse or a soft rattle of the window that woke Gaius in the dead of night. He stretched his stiff muscles and opened his eyes to darkness. The candle had burnt out long ago and the only thing left in the hearth was the soft dying glow of embers. Yawning, Gaius shifted in his bed and pulled down his blanket. He could've sworn he heard a sound. To be sure, he remained still and waited to hear it again.

"Gaius?" Merlin's weak voice whimpered. "Gaius, where are you?" The scared voice said.

"I'm right here." Gaius whispered as he hurried over to Merlin's bed. He grabbed a candle from a shelf and lit it. Gaius thought Merlin was rambling in another one of his nightmares, but when he took a closer look at the boy, he realized that Merlin was indeed very conscious.

"Merlin, you're awake." Gaius said with a sigh of relief.

"Where am I?" Merlin moaned.

"In my chamber." Gaius answered. "You're safe."

The light from the candle allowed Merlin to recognize his surroundings. He couldn't remember how he ended up in Gaius' room, or even what day it was. All he knew was that he somehow survived. He noticed that he was lying in a bed by the fire with some sort of odd bedding. The softness, the size, the weight, the smell of it – it was all unfamiliar. The pillow behind his head was way too soft and the blanket covering his body was way too warm. He tried to sit up but a dull pain shot through his body and he groaned.

"Easy now. You're still very weak." Gaius said as he gently insisted the boy to lie down. "We've been very worried about you. You gave us a great scare. We thought you weren't going to make it."

"Gaius! The amulet!" Merlin exclaimed worriedly. His eyes were wide.

"It has been restored." Gaius cut in. Merlin seemed to relax and breathed.

"Where'd this come from? I don't own anything like this." Merlin asked groggily referring to the blanket. Suddenly, a grumble is heard from a few paces away. It startled Merlin and he squinted into the semi-darkness to see what made the noise.

"I suggest you lower your voice, dear boy. You don't want to wake Arthur." Gaius advised.

"Arthur?" Merlin sounded confused. As his eyes adjusted, he noticed someone slouched down deep in a chair not too far from where he lay. Merlin recognized his old blankets wrapped around the figure. He couldn't see the prince's face but the tuff of golden hair protruding out from the top of the blanket was unmistakable.

"He's been sleeping here – like that – for the last two nights." Gaius said quietly. "He gave you the pillow and warm blanket."

"I don't understand." Merlin winced at the pain.

"Arthur's been taking it pretty hard on himself for what happened to you." Gaius said. "He feels he is to blame for you ending up like this."

"He feels sorry for me?" Merlin's voice came in a near whisper.

"Yes, something like that. Are you hungry? Do you want something to eat? Arthur brought it straight from the court kitchens. He did a fine job of smuggling it out." Gaius chuckled lightly as he recalled the story Arthur told him earlier.

Merlin glanced over at the table. From the light of the candle, he saw on the table a whole loaf of bread, some cheese, sausages, and a chunk of some sort of darkened roasted meat. It was a delightful feast for the eyes. Merlin had to admit that it was a little shocking that Arthur brought all this food for him. Although Arthur's charitable behavior was not unconceivable, it was just out of the norm that he should be so nice to Merlin. As if the blanket and pillow were not enough, Arthur took food from the kitchens and gave it to him - a servant. Merlin had never seen this side of Arthur before.

"I happened to mention that you needed protein in your diet to regain your strength and low and behold, Arthur brings you meat. I will fix you some bread – let's start with that. Arthur also brought some butter to go with the bread." Gaius said as he began slicing several thick wedges of bread, smeared it generously with butter, and placed them on a plate. "Come now, don't make that face. It is quite alright. I will eat with you. Being so worried over you, I haven't eaten much."

"Water." Merlin swallowed the dryness in his throat. He suddenly felt an annoying itch on the injured side of his head. He brought his fingers up to scratch, only to discover that his head was swathed in bandages.

"I'll bring some over." Gaius said. "And don't touch your head. I know the wound itches, but you must leave it alone."

Merlin obeyed and moaned when he turned his head. The sudden move rendered him lightheaded. He closed his eyes for a second to steady his spinning vision. He reopened his eyes to find Gaius materialized in front of him holding a cup of water in one hand and the plate of bread in the other. Gaius propped Merlin up to a semi-seated position. After his thirst was quenched, Merlin sank back into the pillow.

"You are going to like this bread. It's freshly baked." Gaius said as he put a big fluffy piece of it into Merlin's mouth. He watched the boy chew and swallow slowly. Merlin smiled, giving his approval. He couldn't remember the last time he had such tasty bread. It seemed to melt in his mouth.

"Morgana and Gwen were here earlier. They sat with you for a while. Gwen even helped me change your bandages. They were – I guess you can say – stricken with sympathy." Gaius said after stuffing another piece of buttered bread into Merlin's mouth and then taking a bite out of his own piece.

"I hope I didn't say anything embarrassing." Merlin said while chewing. He saw the fleeting look on Gaius' face and knew something was amiss. "Did I say something I wasn't supposed to say?"

"Not in front of Morgana and Gwen. You were unconscious when they were in the room." Gaius said.

"But I _did_ say something, didn't I?" Merlin looked squarely at the old physician. The boy looked so vulnerable, defenseless, and weary that Gaius felt bad bringing it up so soon. "What did I say?" The boy pressed.

"You said Blais was alive. You said it when Arthur was in the room." Gaius hesitated for a moment.

Suddenly, the memories of that dreadful night came back to Merlin. The haunting image in Blais glowing red eyes implanted in Merlin's brain. He remembered the demonic features of the gargoyle as the talons fell on him. The pain was unbearable. There was so much blood that came out of him. Merlin suddenly grew a shade paler. He wanted so much to block out the images of the claws, the massive wings, the row of sharp teeth, the lizard-like eyes, the smell of hot stinky breath, and the black leathery skin that masked wiry flesh. Breathing much deeper now, Merlin closed his eyes. His heart was hammering painfully against his chest.

"Merlin, it's alright." Gaius said in comfort.

"No, it's not alright Gaius." Merlin blubbered. Soon, hot tears streamed down the corners of his closed eyes. Like a typical young man, he hated to cry in front of anyone – especially Gaius. In his youth, Merlin didn't have a father-figure to look up to. Gaius was as close to a father as Merlin would ever have. It was so hard to be strong – be a man – at that point. He tried so hard to stop crying but he just couldn't. The tears seemed to have a mind of their own.

"You are going to exhaust yourself." Leave it to old Gaius to give some tough love.

"He can't be alive." Merlin's voice came in a strained whisper. "He's dead. He has to be."

"We don't know the facts yet." Gaius figured that perhaps bringing Merlin back to those events so soon would surely do more harm than good. However, Merlin was very intuitive when it came to those things. It wasn't hard to get a clue on what was going on in Gaius' mind.

"I know you want me to tell you what happened that night." Merlin took a ragged breath. "But I can't right now. I just can't, Gaius. Please don't make me." His lips quivered and a few more tears squeezed out of his big river blue glassy eyes. He absentmindedly touched his injured side with his hand.

It truly broke Gaius' heart to see Merlin so mortally wounded. Despite Merlin's cunning character, he was a fairly passive individual who would never hurt anyone unless he was forced to. Gaius had no knowledge of the events that Merlin encountered but whatever it was, it was horrible enough to eat away at Merlin's soul. He couldn't force the boy for answers - not when he was so weak. The quick draws of breath from crying caused spasms of pain to immerge. Merlin's lungs burned, making him cough fiercely. It was so painful that for a moment, he thought he was surely going to pass out. Arthur stirred at the noise but did not wake.

"Look here, drink this." Gaius said after taking a small vial off the table. He put the opening of the vial to Merlin's lips, but the young warlock shook his head. "Merlin, this is hardly the right time to be stubborn. Drink it. It will help."

Merlin gulped the liquid down in mouthfuls. After the last drop, Merlin grimaced at the bitter after-taste. It seemed like Gaius found enjoyment in administering awful tasting medicine. Merlin wiped his lips with the back of his hand.

"Gaius, would it kill you to add something sweet in that?" Merlin said, causing Gaius to smile.

"Perhaps next time." Gaius replied.

Merlin leaned back into the fluffiness of the pillow. His face was a ghastly white, giving him a sickly appearance. "I'm sorry." He apologized after a while. He was sorry for all sorts of things, especially for not wanting to discuss what happened.

"Right now, we will concentrate on you getting well." Gaius said. "We can discuss the other things when you feel better. Now, would you like some more bread? How about some cheese?"

Merlin shook his head. Feeling groggy and tired, the medicine started to slowly take effect. He was trembling slightly. It was not so much from the cold, but as a result of the strong medicine. Gaius saw it and made a mental note to himself to lower the dosage next time.

"How are you?" Gaius asked, worriedly.

"I don't feel the pain. Actually, I don't feel anything at all – just tired." Merlin drawled. His tongue felt thick and head heavy.

"It's the medicine." Gaius concluded. "Go to sleep, Merlin."

"Tell – tell Arthur I said thanks." The boy murmured. "Tell him I'm sorry."

"Merlin, close your eyes." Gaius instructed. "Go on, now. Close them."

Merlin's eyes grew heavier and heavier. Closing his eyes, he wondered what kind of drug Gaius gave him that took its toll so quickly. The thoughts that came after that were in a haze. Faces, places, and objects swirled in his head, making very little sense. He had no choice but to surrender to sleep.

**End of Chapter 4**


	5. The Warning

"Gaius, why didn't you wake me?" Arthur cried groggily after the old physician mentioned that Merlin had awakened briefly during the course of the night.

Arthur was not a morning person. He was never a morning person, as far as anyone can remember. Every once in a while he wished for the opportunity to sleep till noon. The minty, cold air was enough to drive the most ambitious of persons to retreat back under the comfort of warm blankets especially when the sky was still so dark. Minimal daylight hours made it even harder to rise and shine. Although Arthur never ignored his responsibilities, it was a challenge to remove himself from his sleep. On a typical morning, the strong aroma of crisp bacon, fried eggs, and freshly brewed coffee would be his eye opener – all of which would be brought in by Merlin, his manservant. He usually wasn't his royal self until he had his breakfast. Gaius, on the other hand, had been up since the crack of dawn getting a head start on his daily tasks of mixing potions and grinding roots. He did an inventory of his medicines and made lists of ingredients that he was running short on or ones that he specifically needed. Gaius also tended the fire in the hearth, making sure the room was adequately warm for both prince and servant.

"I didn't think it was necessary to wake you. It was late and you were sleeping quite well." Gaius said as he threw another piece of wood into the fire. "But really, you didn't miss much."

"I'll be the judge of that." Arthur argued then softened up. He sighed and said, "What happened? Did he say anything important?"

"I sensed a great deal of fear." Gaius said after a moment of contemplation.

"Well, don't stop there. Tell me everything and don't be stingy on the details." Arthur said when he felt Gaius was being enigmatic.

Arthur made his way to the table and took a seat. He watched Gaius pour hot tea into two cups. The suspense was too much. He wanted to know exactly what happened but he tried his best to be patient, which was something he was not used to doing at all. Gaius shuffled over to the fireplace to replace the kettle over the fire and took a seat before speaking.

"He woke up not knowing where he was. It was dark and his surroundings were unfamiliar. I don't think he's ever had the luxury of comforters in his life. After a little reassurance that he was safe, he drank some water and ate a bit of bread. He was concerned about the amulet." Gaius began.

"He is selfless, even in the state that he's in. Typical of Merlin. Do go on." Arthur shook his head in disbelief.

"Merlin's not ready to talking about what happened to him. He cried and begged me not to ask him any questions." Gaius said. "But I assure you, once he's over the shock and trauma a bit, he'll tell us."

Arthur hung onto Gaius' words. _Merlin cried?_ Arthur thought in amazement. If indeed Merlin shed tears, it was something Arthur had never seen. He couldn't imagine Merlin crying. It just wasn't in the clumsy servant's nature. Of course, there were plenty times Merlin whined and protested over the number of chores required of him. There were also countless times when a stubborn Arthur would insist all of Merlin's rational ideas were irrelevant. Merlin spent a lot of time swallowing insults and tending to his hurt feelings. It was unusual to even think that his servant was capable of breaking down and crying.

"As much as I want to know what happened, I clearly see that this was not the time to force answers. Merlin was in a lot of pain and I gave him some medicine. It took him out almost immediately." Gaius said.

"Is that all?" Arthur shot a glance at Merlin's direction. Merlin remained sound asleep. His body was tucked under the massive blanket leaving only part of his neck and head visible. The bandage wrapped around his head made him look extra fragile and sickly.

"He wanted to thank you for the food and blanket. And he said he was sorry." Gaius said.

"Sorry for what? If it wasn't for Merlin, the amulet would've fallen into the hands of an evil sorcerer and Camelot would've been lost. It was Merlin who risked his life for the kingdom. It should be me thanking him instead." He turned to Merlin. "I owe him a lot."

"Gaius," Arthur said after a short pause. "I can talk to you, right?" He sounded troubled.

"Yes, of course." Gaius replied.

"I mean, as a friend." Arthur said.

"The content of our discussions will not travel beyond this room. I can be trusted. You need not worry."

"I've been quite difficult on Merlin from the start." Arthur began as he stared at the tiny bubbles forming on the surface of his tea. "No - _very_ difficult on Merlin, actually." He corrected amid a guilty tone. "I often took for him for granted. I was a horrible master, Gaius. I never thought this can happen to him – that he could die. I never told him how much I valued his loyalty and friendship." His voice faltered. "Now, he lies there – clinging onto life."

"Merlin may not like half the things you make him do, but he's forgiving." Gaius said. "He understands what it means to be a servant."

"Gaius, I've treated him so poorly – even for a servant." Arthur confessed with remorse. "I've been doing a lot of thinking lately. About everything – about life – about the future – about things I normally wouldn't think twice about. I can't believe how big a prat I've been." He admitted. Gaius watched Arthur patiently.

"The world does not revolve around me. So many things are happening and I fail to realize it. I do have the power to fix things and yet I've neglected it. I have a _prince's_ responsibility. A prince, Gaius. I may have to run certain things through my father first, but there's so much that I _could_ do to make things better for the poorer people - to make things fairer for the hired help. Am I crazy for thinking all these things?" He said in one big huff.

"Arthur." Gaius smiled.

"What?" Arthur looked up and wondered why Gaius was grinning.

"I'm very proud of you, Arthur. It shows that your mind is maturing. You are beginning to think like a true prince and see the pressing issues at hand."

"I suppose these matters have always been there but I didn't see them because I was too absorbed in myself and my luxuries."

"Everyone in their own time. The important thing is that you know it now. You are growing up, my dear boy."

"I guess I am." Arthur muttered as his eyes turned downward to his tea. "I didn't think things could be so complicated."

"Sorry to disappoint you but that is only the beginning. Now, you can imagine how important a role your father plays. He's got the weight of the whole kingdom on his shoulders."

"Which is probably why he's so cross all the time." Arthur said with a smirk. This caused Gaius to laugh.

"It may have taken you a while, but I'm glad you see clearly now."

"While I'm indulging on roasted venison and grilled pheasant, Merlin – my own servant - had been making a meal out of stale breadcrumbs and a couple of half-rotted potatoes. And the idiot never once complained. Why didn't he say anything? Why didn't he tell me that he didn't have enough to eat? Day after day, he would watch on as I devoured my extravagant meals. Not once did he even steal the scraps behind my back, and believe me - there were plenty of scraps."

"Ah, the servant's code." Gaius said cleverly.

"Servant's code?" Arthur inquired.

"Thou shall not steal from your master." Gaius answered. "Even if it is discarded food."

"Oh." Arthur said. "Well, all he had to do was ask. I would've done better than leftovers. I would've shared."

"You don't know Merlin. He would never ask you to do that. He knows his place." Gaius said and eyed Merlin, who was still heavily sedated. "Merlin was quite happy with what he had, though it wasn't much. But I tell you Arthur, he enjoyed attending the banquet parties the most. At the end of the night, Merlin would sit by the fire and talk endlessly about his experience - all the different kinds of foods he saw, the elegant dresses the ladies wore and curiously fashionable robes the gentlemen sported. He would go on and on about overhearing meaningless gossip until he got so tired that he fell asleep."

"I didn't know." Arthur looked up, feeling more guilt.

"He was delighted just to be a fly on the wall. He concealed his enthusiasm quite well."

"And this room, Gaius. It's as cold as ice. I never realized the poor living conditions. Merlin didn't even have a good blanket. And you, you must suffer as well."

"I'm used to it." Gaius said. "The cold doesn't bother me as much."

"But still, I will see to it that improvements are made." Arthur said adamantly. "I can't seem to get the image of Merlin shivering so violently out of my mind. How could I have been so blind?"

"Arthur, surely you are being too hard on yourself."

"No, I'm not. Here is my servant answering to my unreasonably high demands, even still, he is happy and loyal, and has not abandoned me. He's given me his friendship. That's more than anyone could offer. Yet, I always yelled at him and belittled him. Is that fair, Gaius?"

"You should not dwell in the past. It's what you can do going forward that would make all the difference." Gaius said wisely.

"I _will_ make things better. You'll see. I shall be nicer to Merlin." Arthur closed a fist. "And I will arrange to remove some of his chores so he won't be so overwhelmed."

Suddenly, a strong suspicious gust of wind rattled the glass on the frail window. The fire in the hearth flickered for a moment and continued to hungrily feast off the pieces of wood. Perhaps Gaius felt something abnormal about the seemingly innocent draft of air. He had a difficult time deciding what it was exactly that he felt. Was it magic? An omen? A warning? Or was it just his imagination?

Arthur curled his hands around the cup of tea for warmth. "Winter is drawing near." He said. "The sky is all silver and misty, looks like snow on the way. We should do something about that window. I'll send a message to the court carpenter to come immediately and repair that pane."

Gaius seemed preoccupied with his thoughts. His eyes narrowed as he gazed at Merlin in the bed by the fireplace. Merlin stirred uncomfortably as the coldness dissolved into the warm room. There was no mistaking that he felt something in that mysterious gust of wind. There were things about Merlin that Gaius wished he could tell Arthur and there were things that Merlin ought to know about Arthur. Gaius knew where the prophecy stood and the paths of these two boys. Because of this knowledge, Gaius had to preserve the bond.

"Gaius, is something the matter?" Arthur said when he realized the old physician was no longer paying attention to what he was saying.

"Hmm? Oh. No, it is nothing." Gaius snapped out of his spell. "I was just thinking."

"You seemed quite far away there for a moment. Anything you'd like to share?" Arthur drank the rest of his tea.

"It is not important. I should put another log in that fire." He changed the subject.

"No worries. I'll do it." Arthur volunteered. He sprang up before Gaius could say anything and lopped towards the hearth, trying to be as helpful as possible.

Arthur picked up a piece of wood and placed it into the fire. When he was finished with his task, he sauntered slowly to where Merlin slept. Arthur studied Merlin with a curious eye. Asleep with lips slightly parted, Merlin looked rather young and innocent. Merlin had absentmindedly pushed down part of the blanket in his sleep revealing a bony clothed shoulder. Hesitantly, Arthur pulled the blanket back up and tucked it around Merlin. Arthur quickly looked up to see if Gaius saw his caring gesture. Luckily, it appeared that Gaius was pouring tea at the time and missed it. But in fact, Gaius saw it. Arthur studied Merlin's face further.

"Staring at him won't quicken his recovery." Gaius spoke casually.

"It's just that – that he's always sleeping." Arthur said.

"Arthur, as you may recall, he's lost a lot of blood. Weak as he is, he needs his sleep." Gaius said as-a-matter-of-factly.

"And here I was, thinking that he's doing it to spite me." Arthur laughed sheepishly, trying to make light of the situation but was failing miserably.

"Well, I think I should be going. I am expected at the training grounds." Arthur said reluctantly.

"Would you care for some breakfast before you go?" Gaius stood up. "Perhaps a poached egg and a slice of ham?" He offered.

"No, it's quite alright." Arthur waved off. He knew how little Gaius and Merlin had for themselves and would not impose upon them. Arthur swung his winter cloak across his shoulders and fastened the clasp under his chin. He took another glance at Merlin.

"I will return here tonight." The prince said firmly. He turned and exited room.

M.M.M.

Now that the critical hours were over, Gaius was able to leave Merlin in his drug induced slumber for a few hours so he could go about his business. Gaius only had to return a few times during the course of the day to check on the boy, administer the next dose of medicine, care for his wounds, and perhaps tend to the fire a bit. There was an urgent task that Gaius must do in the meantime. After a quick breakfast, Gaius set off to the court library in search of information.

The court library was something of a wonder. Two large rooms with bookshelves reaching as high as the ceilings, and close to ten thousand books of various subjects, it was the portal into the realm of extensive knowledge. Though most of the books came down from the Pendragon generations, no one knew the exact origins of all the books. Perhaps there were books there that even King Uther did not know existed. Gaius had his own little library in his chambers on poisonous roots and other subjects but his collection was laughable compared to the massive court library. He was so intrigued by what it had to offer that he spent most of his free time buried behind a stack of books. His reason for visiting the library on this day was for anything but pleasure.

The type of information he needed was not found in any of the books that he owned. There were only two known ways that Merlin could be freed from the mark of the gargoyle. The first way is for the gargoyle to be killed. And second way is to find a spell to lift the curse upon Merlin's head. Gaius needed to find a way to break the bind the gargoyle had with his master's orders and free Merlin from the gargoyle. It was the only thing he could do in his power to help. Gaius set straight to work among the stacks hoping the research that would shed some light on the subject.

As the rest of Camelot anxiously awaited word from King Badon, business as usual were to commence. King Uther and his generals and court officials, along with Prince Arthur, were to spend hours strategizing and preparing for a possible war. They needed to cover all areas of the kingdom as well as build their army. A recruiting post was established to employ as many able townsmen as they could to follow the knights into battle. Time was drawing near and they had to be ready to fight, if it came to it.

The waiting was the worst part – not knowing where the fate of Camelot lies. Arthur obediently followed his father's orders and submersed himself in maps and lines of attack. It was the only way to set his mind apart from the worries at hand and the fall of his only friend Merlin – even if for only a few hours. Arthur was so determined in forming the perfect approach and taking command of the meeting that even his father was impressed. It was the first time that King Uther had ever seen his son so persevering and assiduous in his duties. It rather warmed his heart to know that Arthur had the makings of a good king.

M.M.M.

Merlin slept well into the day. It was only when Gaius returned to check on him that he woke groggily to take in some food and medicine. After the dose, he was soon asleep again. Gaius redressed Merlin's wounds and tended to the fire. Seeing that Merlin was sleeping well, Gaius left once more for the court library.

In his dreams, Merlin saw familiar faces and favorite places of his childhood. He saw his mother in the kitchen making delicious strawberry jam and saw her setting the jam into half a dozen empty jars. Then he saw his younger self dipping fingers greedily into the pan for a taste when his mother wasn't looking. He then saw Gaius teaching him lessons on the various types of fungus and showing him how to mix a simple tonic for headaches. Eventually, the images changed and he saw Arthur's princely face. They were walking along a lake looking for a good fishing spot. He saw himself accidentally lost his footing when he got too close to the river bank. He was flapping his arms, trying to regain his balance but it was useless. He fell into the lake, making a huge splash. Arthur's hysterical laughter filled the air as he gave Merlin a hand to pull him onto land. Merlin heard Arthur say - _This wasn't what I had in mind when I said we were going fishing._ And both boys cracked up laughing.

Suddenly, a swirl of gray clouds inked over the happy thoughts and replaced them with frightful images. Merlin was brought back to that horrible night he encountered Blais. The dream took him into the lair of the evil sorcerer. Darkness folded all around him. He saw nothing but blackness except for a soft white glow in the distance. His breath quickened as he walked towards it. Snarls and snaps along with cynical whispering of words exploded in his ears. He covered his ears with his hands and quickened his pace towards the strange light. Just as he was about to reach the light, a big massive pair of wings fluttered across his path. He came to an abrupt stop. The menacing beast landed a few feet away from him, as if in protest. Merlin could only see the outline of the massive creature towering above him. Merlin's heart pounded loudly in his chest, making breathing very difficult. Then a painfully bright orange light flashed in front of him. The light was so intense that he had to shield his eyes from the glare. Once his eyes readjusted, he noticed a silhouette of a tall figure materialize in front of the huge beast. Without the need for introduction, Merlin knew the man's identity. It was the fiery evil globes in his eyes that gave it away. Merlin instantly drew back in fear.

" _MERLIN."_ The deep voice called. Merlin remained speechless. He felt powerful magic emanate from the sorcerer.

" _What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?"_ Blais cackled in a threatening laugh. _"I can imagine your surprise, me showing up like this - in a dream of all places. But I can assure you that I am not a figment of your imagination. Appearing in your dream is the only way I can tell you that I live."_

" _You're supposed to be dead. I killed you."_ Merlin said. His heart felt like it should explode.

" _Ah, the boy speaks after all."_ Blais chuckled calmly. _"I'm very sorry to disappoint you. Really, did you think getting rid of me would be so easy?"_ The irony in his voice was uncanny.

Consumed with fear, Merlin tried to summon up all his magic. He felt it growing from the tips of his toes all the way up to the top of his scalp. The blue energy was radiating through his eyes. And if Blais was any form of sorcerer, he would have felt it too.

" _Now, now. I don't think there is any need to get violent…yet. There will be plenty of time for that later. You have defeated me once and I will not forget it. I will have my vengeance after all."_ Blais said, sounding quite confident.

Merlin conjured up a lethal ball of electricity from within and sent it at lightning speed towards the evil sorcerer. Blais effortlessly raised his hand and blocked the attack, in turn reflecting the ball back to Merlin. The young warlock cried out in agony as the electricity went into his body. The impact of the blast knocked Merlin off his feet. He landed on the ground a few feet away. The pain was so intense and paralyzing that he could barely move. By the time he got his strength back, Blais was looking down on him. Merlin made another attempt to defend himself. Blais managed to reverse the attack once more and sent it back towards the warlock. Merlin desperately tried different spells but nothing seemed to work and they all kept backfiring, leaving him weak and injured. He lay gasping for air.

" _Have you gotten that out of your system?"_ Blais said in a scolding voice. It delighted him to see Merlin suffer. _"I am no match for you, Merlin."_

With arms hugging his chest in pain, Merlin looked up at Blais. There was no mercy in the sorcerer's eyes for they were red orbs of pure evil. The sinister grin upon his thin black lips revealed rows of sharp pointy teeth.

" _What do you want?"_ Merlin blurted.

" _Questions, questions. Oh, you know what I want. I want the amulet. And since you took it from me – and tried to kill me – I think I shall repay the favor. It seems only_ _ **you**_ _stand in my way. But don't you worry. I won't destroy you just yet. I like a bit of a challenge – you know, play with my food before I eat it – so to speak."_ Blais spoke eloquently. With arms crossed, he drummed his long nailed fingers against opposite sleeves. _"Hmm…I should like to peel away your life. I might start with that royal pain-in-the-ass, the one you seem to care so much about."_

" _Arthur!"_ Merlin gasped in terror. _"Leave him alone."_

" _Feeling protective, I see."_ Blais chuckled. _"Let's just say that when I'm through with him, there will be no heir to Camelot."_

Anger seethed in Merlin as those words burned in his ears. He wanted so much to tear Blais to shreds with his bare hands but all he could do right then was sit there and stare at the sorcerer with scornful hatred.

" _Does that anger you?"_ Blais said rhetorically. _"I think it does. I sense the magic boiling in you. Ha-ha."_

" _If you hurt him, I swear I'll kill you."_ Merlin boasted.

Hearing this seemed to delight the evil Blais. He laughed and clapped his hands together. _"Well, I doubt you'll be able to do that a second time. Just look at you – pathetic and weak. Tsk, tsk."_

Suddenly, the evil sorcerer's poise changed and he seized Merlin by the neck. Horrified, Merlin felt the nails dig into his skin. He struggled for breathe as he frantically tried to pry the hands off of him. It was useless as Blais' hold was very strong.

" _The prince will die."_ Blais whispered with clenched teeth.

" _NOOO!"_ Merlin choked. _"Not if I can help it."_ Tears filled his eyes. Blais laughed wholeheartedly and let go of Merlin's neck with a push. Falling on the ground, Merlin lay gasping.

" _Stay away from Arthur."_ Merlin warned rather pathetically when he got his wind back.

" _Try and stop me."_ Blais teased.

" _With every last breathe."_ Merlin promised.

" _Let's not be hasty now. Your time will come. I will crush you…that is, if my gargoyle doesn't finish you off first. It's only a matter of time. The amulet can't protect you forever."_

Merlin glared vengefully at his nemesis.

" _You know,"_ Blais began. His eerie coolness returned. _"Come to think of it, The Kayas can be a very dangerous place for a prince."_ He mocked. And with that, Blais disappeared into a swirl of darkness. All that was left was the echoing of his sinister laugh.

Merlin woke from his dream with a violent start and found himself sitting up in his bed with tears streaming out of his eyes. Beads of perspiration dotted his pale forehead and he felt the heat upon his skin. His heart raced and hammered heavily against his chest. Dizzy with panic, the young warlock looked around the room fearfully in search for Blais, but the traces of the sorcerer were nowhere to be found. The words were still fresh in his mind. Merlin had to warn Arthur. He couldn't wait for Gaius to return. Dismissing whatever pain he was feeling, he pushed his blanket away and swung his legs over the side of the bed carefully. Even this bit of movement gave Merlin an excruciating amount of pain.

Unaware of the extent of his injuries, Merlin made an attempt to stand up, only to have his legs give way under him and thus falling onto the floor. It brought tears to his eyes and he cried out. He managed to hang onto the side of the bed. It was the closest thing within reach. Clinging to the side of his mattress, Merlin gathered all the strength he had and made another attempt to stand. More successful than the last try, he was able to find different points of aid – the chair, the table, the wall. Clutching to his wound, he clumsily knocked over a pitcher of water that was on the table. He couldn't worry about the spill. He was on a mission and will do whatever it took to get the message to Arthur.

Dressed in a plain straw-colored sleep tunic and matching pants, he wobbled out of Gaius' chambers. To his surprise, the hall was empty. Merlin wondered what time it was. By looking out a window, he guessed it to be some time in the afternoon because the sun was already at its highest. Merlin shivered. He couldn't decide if he was shaking so fiercely because of the cold or because of the fear - perhaps a bit of both. He used the walls for support. Limping painfully onward, he ignored the coldness of the cobbled ground under his bare feet. Each step sent bolts of pain through his body.

The blow to the head left him quite disoriented and woozy. At times, he didn't wasn't even sure if he was going in the right direction. The simple hallway from Gaius' room to the main corridor seemed to last for miles. When he finally turned the corridor, he stumbled a few steps before the pain got so intense that he knew he couldn't go a single step further. Defeated, he slid down to a seated position. He sat leaning his back against the wall. When he looked down upon his shirt, he noticed a small dark stain growing upon the front of his tunic. He was feeling awfully faint and had to close his eyes for a second. When he reopened them, he saw two worried faces staring at him. One was of a bushy-eyed chambermaid and the other a round freckled-faced messenger boy.

"'Tis Merlin. The prince's servant. I know 'im. Seen 'im 'round. Heard twas 'im that brought the am'let back." The freckled-faced messenger boy said. "Ah, I think he's comin' 'round."

"Dearie, are ye alright?" The chambermaid asked Merlin earnestly. "Ye don't look well." She knelt next to Merlin. Her long skirt covered the area around her.

"I need to find Arthur." Merlin's voice came out in a whimper.

"Ye in no way to be a travelin'. 'Haps ye ought to be in bed." The chambermaid said to the warlock. She then turned to the messenger boy and said, "I reckon we should get Gaius."

"No, I'm fine. I just need to get to Arthur. Please, it's urgent." Merlin pleaded, the voice barely escaping his purplish lips.

"I'll run for Gaius." The messenger boy said and the chambermaid concurred.

"NO! You don't understand." Merlin was ready to burst into tears. "I have to see Arthur. His life is in danger. His life may depend on it."

"The prince's life?" The chambermaid gasped and exchanged nervous glances with the messenger boy.

"I must warn him. Please." Merlin said breathlessly. He tried to get up. Grunting in pain, he sat back down.

"Oh no dearie, ye bet'r not move. See, yer bleedin' already." The chambermaid said and darted a fleeting look at the bloody spot on Merlin's tunic. "Froy'll get Prince Arthur at once 'n bring him here. Ain't that right, Froy?"

"Er…get the Prince? He ain't be pleased – gettin' 'nterrupted 'n all." Froy stammered. He looked uncomfortable and seemed terribly afraid of the young prince.

"Now if summin shoulda 'appen to the prince, ye be the one to blame. 'Cause ye done nuthin' to stop it." The chambermaid shot angrily. "Now GO 'n hurry!"

The messenger boy sighed heavily and ran down the corridor as fast as his stubby little legs could carry him to find Prince Arthur.

**End of Chapter 5**


	6. Arthur's Promise

**Chapter 6: Arthur's Promise**

Prince Arthur quickened his pace in following Froy, the freckle-faced messenger boy, as they headed through the halls of the castle with a sense of urgency. Maids and servants routinely stopped in their movements to bow and curtsy respectfully at the passing prince but the prince was walking so fast that he had disappeared by the time they looked up, leaving them baffled. Arthur's winter cloak billowed behind him as his medium steps turned into large strides, all the while trying to keep up with his pint-sized guide. He had every reason to be troubled by the nature of the news. From time to time, he demanded answers from Froy but the poor messenger boy couldn't offer anything concrete. The suspense was driving Arthur mad. But in a way, he was glad Froy brought this matter to his attention in such a timely manner.

Froy had luckily located Arthur in the sitting-room taking a break from his father's on-going meetings. It was a well-deserved break after proving to his father how clever and sharp he could be in presenting forth ideas. Arthur appreciated the stillness and solitude of the room, which was a rare instance - being that he was usually always surrounded by people. Arthur sat behind the desk perusing a stack of treaties and sipping hot cider when Froy stumbled noisily through the doors. With a nervous, teeth-chattering, wide-eyed approach, the messenger boy told Arthur of the events that occurred. Judging from the growing look of distress on the prince's face, Froy could tell that he bore heavy news. Arthur was rattled but did not take his anguish out on Froy. After all, the boy was only doing his job. The burning questions in Arthur's head multiplied rapidly as the helplessness and suspense of not knowing ate away at his soul. When he reached the corridor that led to Gaius' chambers at last, he saw a faint sickly figure in an oversized straw-colored outfit nearly sprawled on the floor. There were now not one but two chambermaids surrounding him quibbling what would be the most plausible thing to do with the injured boy.

"Merlin!" Arthur exclaimed and ran ahead of Froy.

Upon hearing the Prince's familiar voice, the two chambermaids froze and stopped their dialogs in mid-sentence. Their ruddy faces became drawn and tense at once. They immediately backed away when they saw Arthur coming towards them at such a speed.

"Sire." The two chambermaids said simultaneously while dropping into deep curtsies on his arrival.

Arthur knelt down next to Merlin, who was trembling something fierce. Merlin's big fright-filled river blue eyes and deathly complexion told him that something was terribly wrong. Arthur's eyes then traveled down to the fresh blood stain that was spreading slowly across Merlin's tunic.

"Arthur, Arthur." Merlin rambled hysterically, ignoring the pain that he felt. His heart was palpitating in his chest so violently that he thought it might explode. It made breathing very difficult. Nonetheless, he needed so desperately to warn Arthur about the dangers. He opened his mouth to articulate something but the only sound that came out was an incoherent grunt followed by a sob.

A medley of fear, frustration, pain, and extreme anxiety left Merlin in a sort of panic. Consumed with pity and overwhelming sympathy, Arthur reached out to touch Merlin's shoulder. In an instant, Merlin flung himself at Arthur and grabbed the prince by his front collar with both hands. The spontaneous and careless action caused the chambermaids to gasp. They drew their fingers to their lips and exchanged bewildered glances with each other. No one was allowed to touch royalty in such a fashion. It was uncalled for and certainly forbidden by the hired help to so much as lay a finger on royalty, unless they were instructed to do so. Believing that poor Merlin had finally done it by touching the prince, the chambermaids gulped in fear and pity for what punishment was to come for the boy.

"Arthur, you have to listen to me." Merlin cried, all the while gasping deeply.

Instead of chastising the injured servant, Arthur resorted to a bit of comfort, which surprised the servants around him. "It's alright Merlin. Everything's going to be fine."

"I have to tell you something." Merlin wailed while sitting on his heels. His eyes darted nervously around, as if what he had to say was too secret to be overheard by anyone other than Arthur. He was face to face with Arthur, with their noses just inches away from each other. The feral, bewildered look in Merlin's gestures revealed a state of hysteria and Arthur picked up on it.

"I'm sure you have a lot of explaining to do. But right now, let's get you back into your bed." Arthur said as he draped Merlin's arm across his shoulder for support. "We can't have you wandering around the castle grounds like this."

Arthur effortlessly hoisted Merlin onto a standing position. He imagined that Merlin should be cold parading around in his thin wispy gossamer-like clothing. But on the contrary, Arthur could feel an unusual heat emanating from the boy's battered body as he took hold of his waist.

"Sire, is there sumthin' ye wish us to do?" The bushy-eyed chambermaid asked.

"There is nothing. You may go about your routines." Arthur instructed and the maids curtsied again. They started down the hall but every so often turned their heads to see what was happening behind them. Whispered conversation took to their lips.

"Froy." Arthur's voice thundered.

"Aye, Sire." The freckled-faced messenger boy answered readily.

"Get Gaius. Have him come directly to his chambers. Tell him it is urgent." Arthur said.

"Right away, Sire." Froy bowed and obediently ran off in the direction of the court library.

"It's important." Merlin stammered. Arthur held him securely by the waist.

"Whatever you have to say can certainly wait." Arthur said firmly.

Prince and warlock started off towards Gaius' chambers. Arthur took careful steps and provided a sturdy support for Merlin. It was a deplorable sight just watching his friend hobble stiffly along. Arthur noticed Merlin's shoeless feet were turning a grapy shade of light purple from the cold. At the end of the long hallway, the corridor opened up into the courtyard, which was an outdoor wing of the castle. It was not uncommon that cold drafts of air were to travel through these passages. Merlin's knees buckled twice during their journey and Arthur caught him. During the homestretch, about ten feet away from Gaius' door, Merlin did not have the strength to go further. Giving a sharp cry, he was about to slip from Arthur's grasp and fall to the ground.

"No time for that right now." Arthur said as he scooped Merlin up with ease and carried him the rest of the way. It surprised Merlin that a prince would do such a thing. Who ever heard of a master carrying his servant? "Don't you dare breathe a word about this to anyone…unless you are willing to clean out the dungeons for a week." Arthur threatened seriously with a furrowed brow. Underneath all the brawn and toughness of his character, there was a compassionate soul that he rarely revealed.

After setting Merlin down on the bed, Arthur went about building up the fire. Merlin's teeth were chattering too much for his mouth to form words. He thought it was odd how he should be feeling cold but instead, he felt so warm. Trembling from head to foot, Merlin opened his mouth to speak. Once Arthur was satisfied with the fire, he took a seat in the chair next to Merlin's bed.

"Thank you, Sire." Merlin began in a feeble and wretched voice. Arthur watched Merlin's bloodless lips move as he spoke and gave a nod of acceptance.

"Merlin, what were you thinking? Don't you know that you're making things worse? You can barely stand. You shouldn't be out of bed." Arthur said, choosing to be firm yet fairly merciful. The young prince couldn't find it in his heart to fire back a degrading remark to his servant, as he would under normal circumstances.

"Arthur, please don't be angry with me." Merlin implored. "It's important, what I must tell you."

Arthur's face softened as his gaze fell upon the blood stain on Merlin's tunic. The dark contrast against the light colored fabric was rather noticeable. If Merlin was in any sort of pain, he didn't seem to show it. Instead, the warlock's eyes were alert and seeking Arthur's understanding. Merlin was propped up against an array of pillows that have multiplied over the course of the last few days. These were old pillows that Arthur dug out from his linen closet, which he claimed were of no use to him being that they were either too soft or too hard for his taste.

"Fine, then what is it that you're so anxious to tell me?" Arthur inquired.

"You must not go to The Kayas." Merlin gasped. "No matter what happens - do NOT go there."

"The Kayas? Now, why would I go there?" Arthur said in a puzzled tone.

"Just promise me that you won't go." Merlin persisted. His voice was pressing and frantic.

"Merlin, I don't know why you would think I should want to go to The Kayas. I have neither purpose nor a burning desire to go there." Arthur said. His voice became firm as he straightened up. "But even if I chose to go, you – my servant - have no right to interfere. You cannot tell me what I can and cannot do."

"I'm telling you this for your own good. Stop being such a royal prat. Can't you set your pig-headed, prince-is-all-high-and-mighty stubbornness aside for once and listen to me." Merlin spat, with fire in his eyes. Prince or not, he needed to take whatever measures to keep his master safe.

Surprised at Merlin's sudden outburst, Arthur wasn't sure what was going on. It was unlike Merlin to lash out like that without good reason. Arthur's first instinct at such a vile remark would be to set Merlin straight on who is master and who is servant. A suitable punishment would then follow this lecture. But instead, Arthur felt no anger. In fact, he was most curious at Merlin's behavior. He studied the warlock's white face and bandaged head. Perhaps it was that nasty knock on the head that caused Merlin to act funny.

"Are you feeling alright?" Arthur touched his servant's cheek and drew back immediately. "Why Merlin, you are extremely warm to the touch!"

Merlin grabbed the end of Arthur's cloak with both fists and refused to let go. "Your life is in danger, Arthur. Please do not go to The Kayas. It is there that you will meet a deadly fate."

"Wh-what do you mean? Why do you say these things?" Arthur said. "Surely Merlin, you are not yourself. Gaius will be here soon. He will—"

"No. I'm speaking the truth. Arthur, you have to believe me. You have to trust me. Don't go there under any reason. Mark my words. He will kill you. He told me so." Merlin begged, his voice growing weaker.

"He? Who is this man that has such power over you?" Arthur said.

"He's not a man. By far – he is not of human nature." Merlin whispered feverishly.

"You do not make sense. And let go of my cloak." Arthur tried to pry Merlin's spindly fingers away from the tails of his cloak, but was unsuccessful. Merlin may be weak but his determination was as strong as ever.

"Arthur, he will kill you." Merlin held onto Arthur's cloak and refused to loosen his grip. At this point, Gaius threw open the door. Standing upon the entrance to his chambers, he immediately set eyes on the figures by the fireplace.

"Gaius, you'd better come here quick and help Merlin. He seems to be losing his wits." Arthur said anxiously.

"What's happened?" Gaius hurried over.

Arthur gave Gaius an accurate account of Merlin's little excursion. Gaius pulled up a seat by Merlin and took to examining the boy. He immediately locked onto Merlin's powerful stare. The wildness in Merlin's eyes spoke to Gaius, silently telling him that all he said was not to be taken lightly.

"And then he started mumbling about The Kayas and how death is waiting for me there." Arthur explained with a hint of skepticism in his voice. But he wised up instantly when he saw the seriousness in Gaius' face.

Merlin trembled with fear and his unblinking wide eyes stared nervously at Gaius. Merlin found a way to tell Gaius all that's happened to him without having to say a word. He just wasn't ready to tell his story and recall all the horrible details. As their eyes locked, the magic in Merlin's body bubbled and radiated with such influence as he transferred images into Gaius' mind. Gaius absorbed the thoughts. Not only was Gaius able to learn the content of the dream, he was also able to feel all the pain his young ward was feeling. The anger and hatred that Gaius felt towards Blais was indescribable.

"You might want to look at his wound. It's bled through his clothes." Arthur's voice brought Gaius out of his trance.

A little disoriented from the intense vision, Gaius fumbled with the wicker box that held his medical supplies. He got what he needed from it and proceeded to undo Merlin's shirt. Merlin shrank back slightly – whether it was from fear or pain, it was not clear.

"Let's have a look, Merlin. Looks like you tore your stitches. We'll have this cleaned up." Gaius said.

Arthur gave up on the fact that Merlin was still comically holding onto a fist full of his cloak. Without batting an eye, Arthur watched Gaius remove the old crimson blood-soaked bandages. The wound appeared to be in a better condition than it was a couple days ago. The swelling had gone down but the flesh was still raw and bruised along the stitches. Arthur's attention then shifted to the irregular rise and fall of Merlin's stomach. He realized Merlin had gotten thinner than he last remembered. Protruding ribs and skin as tight as a drum, he was able to count off one knobby rib after the other. Repulsed at Merlin's gaunt figure, Arthur tried to hide his emotion.

"Arthur," Merlin whimpered. "I know you don't believe me right now. There are some things I can't explain. My dream told me that Blais is alive." He flinched as Gaius pressed a bit too firmly while cleaning his wound.

"Blais is dead. You said so yourself." Arthur said.

"I was wrong. He's alive…and very angry that I took the amulet." Merlin replied.

"I think he's delirious." Arthur said in disbelief to the old physician. Gaius was silent, not knowing how to tell Arthur that Merlin was speaking the truth. Arthur studied Gaius for a moment. "It can't be possible, can it Gaius? Is it true then? Is Blais really alive?"

"Judging by Blais' power and sorcery, I can't rule it out as an infinite impossibility." Gaius said.

"But how can that be? Merlin said he saw Blais turn into ashes. And no more was seen of him." Arthur said.

"Out of sight, but perhaps not completely out of mind." Gaius looked up at the young prince. "I've read about sorcerers as powerful as Blais. It takes more than an amulet to destroy him. There's only one person who could-" Gaius realized he was about to accidentally reveal Merlin as the only person who had the power to destroy Blais. He noticed Arthur's puzzled expression and refrained. "Well, let's just say he has yet to meet his match."

"So, he's alive." Arthur sighed in despair.

"Unfortunately looks that way." Gaius replied.

"But find it all a little hard to believe. I mean, all this assumption based on a mere dream! And a dream that _Merlin_ dreamt. Of all people, why should this vision come to him? He's just a servant." Arthur argued, though not meaning to be difficult.

"And why should the vision not come to the one person who prevented the sorcerer from having his way with the Amulet of Avalon?" Gaius shot back, hoping this explanation would satisfy Arthur.

"Well, you do have a point there." Arthur murmured.

"Blais makes it appear like he's got the upper hand – got us right where he wants us. But we know he has been weakened and the only way to channel his torment, at this point, is through the dreams of the one person that stood in the way of his goal."

"He will have his vengeance by targeting everyone I care for, starting with you, Arthur." Merlin rambled. Arthur was touched by the fact that Merlin openly admitted his concerns. No friend had ever expressed such immense loyalty and for this alone, Arthur was grateful to Merlin.

"And when he's through, he will kill me as well." Merlin sobbed.

"I won't let that happen." Arthur retorted nobly.

"Oh Arthur, please, please, please promise me that you won't go to The Kayas. Just promise me." Merlin begged relentlessly. The scared look on Merlin's innocent face drowned Arthur with pity. But he refused to succumb to tears. He sighed and composed himself.

"First of all, The Kayas is a mountainous region to the far west of Camelot and to get there, least you forget, I would have to go through the Allerian woodlands. It's one of the places I wouldn't want to get lost in. It's like a maze in there. I don't think I'll be required to go to The Kayas. Besides, I'm not so fond of mountains – too many caves." Arthur said.

"Promise me." The corner of Merlin's lips twitched. With white knuckles grasping tightly onto Arthur's cloak, Merlin pulled the hem close to his boyish face.

"Alright, alright." The prince gave in. "I promise you, Merlin that I will not go to The Kayas. Are you satisfied?"

Merlin blinked and gave a sigh of relief. His glassy eyes then followed Gaius, who moved swiftly across the room. Gaius retrieved a fresh shirt out of the wardrobe cabinet for Merlin. After seeing his friend's distraught and hysterical behavior, Arthur failed to maintain his own toughness. It was utterly heartbreaking to see Merlin, who was once so carefree and happy-go-lucky, transform into a frenzied individual afraid of his own shadow.

"Come now Merlin, let go of my cloak so Gaius can change your shirt." Arthur advised in a soft tone. Merlin, however, was not letting go. "There is no need to be scared anymore. I promise no harm will come to anyone, you included."

"He's right." Gaius added. "You have warned us and we will be extra careful now that we know." It was like coaxing a scared and injured animal to come out from its hiding place. Merlin darted his big river blue watery eyes from Gaius to Arthur, then back to Gaius. Merlin finally released his hold on the cloak. Arthur tried his best to not gawk at Merlin's brittle torso as Gaius changed Merlin's shirt.

" _Mer_ lin, you've really outdone yourself this time." Arthur muttered under his breath. He didn't mean to sound insensitive, but he often had a habit of showing his affection towards his servant in such an odd fashion. This was his way of masking his apprehensiveness.

"He burns with fever." Gaius said of his patient. "He should not have been out of bed."

Merlin paid no attention to the tiny dots of perspiration that started to form on his white forehead and nose. The moist tips of his black hair matted slightly around his temples. Otherwise pale, a dash of pink color developed against his cheeks from the fever.

"I'm sorry for all the trouble I've caused." Merlin said between small tired gasps of air. His eyes traveled to Gaius, who was searching for something on the shelf.

Gaius found what he was looking for - a small ceramic pot. He removed the lid and dug out a spoonful of fine blue powder. He placed the powder into a glass vial, which at first appeared to contain clear liquid. Once the blue powder came into contact with the clear liquid, the mixture swirled and fizzed before turning into a bright orange-red color.

"Merlin, this will help you." Gaius said with a smile.

"No, I don't want any more medicines. All it d-does is knock me out. I need to stay awake. I – I don't want to go back to that dream. I don't want to see him again. He'll hurt me. He will." Merlin blurted, half oblivious to what he was saying. He turned his head to face Arthur, as if pleading him to be his advocate.

"I'm with Gaius here. You need to take your medicine." Arthur shrugged.

"You don't understand. You don't know what it's like." Merlin whimpered. Arthur almost felt sorry for the poor servant. "Please…" He begged, his voice nearly fading.

"You're getting worked up over nothing." Gaius spewed at his young ward. "This elixir is different. It does not induce sleep. It only helps lower your fever. Now, bottoms up." He put forth the vial for Merlin to drink up. "I even put a bit of sweetener in this one to make it go down easier."

Merlin reluctantly accepted the medicine - partly because he was tired of fighting it and because Gaius had such a trusting voice. He swallowed down the liquid in loud gulps. And when he was done, he leaned back against the pillow in exhaustion.

"I trust he'll be alright now?" Arthur questioned.

"He will, once he's asleep." Gaius said. "It should take a few seconds."

"Gaius! You lied to me." Merlin murmured. "You said I wouldn't fall asleep."

"Did you honestly think I would keep you awake? We need to alleviate the fever. And to do that, you require a lot of rest."

"I can't believe you – you…" Merlin's voice trailed off. He winced slightly before his face softened and drifted into a deep slumber. Thereafter, he trembled slightly as he slept.

Gaius periodically wiped Merlin's face and neck with a cool damp cloth. He did it with such care and tenderness. Arthur noticed the worried creases in Gaius' tired face. The physician's concern for Merlin's well-being was genuine. Gaius was always there for Merlin. He never failed. Gaius was generous about taking Merlin under his wing. A twinge of jealousy pulsed in Arthur upon seeing Gaius' devotion.

Arthur didn't have a bad childhood or a bad father. He knew that from the bottom of his heart. In fact, he looked up to his father with the utmost respect and thought the world of him. Uther gave him the best of everything – well, everything that money could buy. When young Arthur was sick, he had nannies and governesses to nurse and care for him. When he had academic questions, he turned to his tutors to supply him with answers. Uther was hardly present to nurture his son in such moments. The only quality time he remembered spending with Uther were during sword lessons. Arthur wished those would last forever. Well, Arthur couldn't blame his father completely for the neglect. After all, Uther was king and a king was a very busy man. However, Arthur was quite happy that, regardless of his schedule, his father always managed to be at the dinner table each and every day. During which time, his father seemed rather interested in hearing what Arthur had to say and was quite caught up in the conversations. All Arthur ever wanted was for Uther to be more involved in his son's life. Was that asking for too much?

Arthur's was ashamed to be envious at all. Merlin was nothing more than a poor lowly servant in the castle's employment. He had no valuable possessions and deserved some sort of compensation for his situation. Gaius was the closest being to a father that Merlin ever had. If this were the case, then Arthur should indeed be happy for Merlin.

"You care a great deal for Merlin, don't you?" Arthur said in more of a statement form than a question form.

"Well, someone's got to look after the boy." Gaius responded. He sighed and said softly, "Like as if he was my own."

"I'm glad he has you. He is very lucky." Arthur said, watching Gaius rewet and wrung the cloth in the basin.

"Uther is very lucky to have you as well."

Arthur turned away and glanced out the window. Somehow, it was hard to look Gaius in the eye. He noticed a light flurry had started to twirl down from the silvery sky. A few stray flakes struck the glass on the window and dissolved in a matter of seconds.

"Arthur." Gaius called. "Arthur, don't think that he doesn't care, because he does – more than you know." The physician continued in a tender voice.

"I guess." Arthur said. "He just has an odd way of showing it."

"I've been in the employment of this court a very long time. I know many things about your father that you do not know." Gaius said and saw the doubt in Arthur's eyes. "Through your infant years and well into your childhood, he often came to me and asked me for advice on how to interact with you. He was very much the inexperienced father. He wanted to do well, but didn't exactly know a thing about raising a child."

"Knowing him, he probably didn't take your advice to heart." Arthur said.

"Oh no, he did." Gaius said. "Well, most of the time." He corrected with a short laugh. "Whose idea did you think it was for recommending Uther be the one to teach you the sword lessons when you were just a boy?"

"You?" Arthur sounded amazed.

"Um-hm." Gaius nodded. "And whose idea did you think it was for insisting the family be present at the dinner table regardless of tasks or duties?"

"That was you too?" Arthur said.

"Yes, so don't think that he hasn't made an effort. He's a king and responsibilities come with the territory. But he tries very hard to make time for you." Gaius offered.

"I know, I suppose." Arthur said reluctantly. It was a stunning revelation and Arthur could not help but smile a little.

"Now," Gaius said turning back to Merlin. "He shall remain in this bed until I deem it safe for him to move about. We'll chain him to the bedpost if need be."

"He's quite brave." Arthur said. "To have done what he did. I mean, I've not had many servants who were willing to die for me. They do what I ask and never complain. Merlin - he's different. He complains about the tasks, that I make him do, half the time. There is a sort of rebellion in Merlin. I don't know exactly where it comes from. But when it comes to saving my life, he does crazy things like this. I don't get it. He hates me, yet he doesn't hate me completely."

Gaius laughed softly. "No, Merlin doesn't hate you. It was perhaps true in the beginning, but things have changed. Merlin never had a friend like you before."

_The prophecy predicts your futures. Your paths are intertwined. Arthur, you will become the greatest King to ever have lived – even greater than Uther. And as for Merlin, he will become a powerful wizard. You will be the ones to save Camelot from dark forces._ Gaius thought. He wished he could unload himself of this secret burden.

"Well, I've certainly never had a friend like Merlin." Arthur reddened when he realized what he said. He never admitted to anyone that he considered Merlin a friend. Suddenly, the door swung open and there stood Froy, the freckled-faced messenger boy, puffing like he just ran a marathon.

"My 'umble apologies, Sire." Froy said, all out of breath with his hands on his knees. "But – but I deliver a message from your father, King Uther."

"Go on, what is it?" Arthur said impatiently.

"King Uther received a response from King Badon. The messenger just arrived with it." Froy chirped.

"Well? What was the content of the message?" Arthur pressed.

"I don't know, Sire. King Uther said he ought to speak to you 'mmediately – so he sent me to tell you." Froy answered. "You are to report to the war room, says he."

"I must leave now. If there is any change in his condition, send for me." Arthur turned to Gaius and bid him farewell. He walked gallantly towards the door. Gaius was able to hear some dialog as Arthur tried to extract any bit of information from Froy that he could. He heard the following conversation as they walked….

"You know nothing of the content? Did father not say a word about it?" Arthur questioned.

"Nay, not a word." Froy replied, rubbing his rosy cheek with the back of a chubby hand.

"Alright then, what was his reaction to the letter? Was he in a cheery temper or in a bitter temper after reading it?"

"I can't tell, Sire. It's very hard to tell."

"You must've noticed something? Perhaps an expression on his face?"

"Well, I mighta seen a bit o' a smile come 'cross his lips." Froy scratched his head in thought.

"Ah!" Arthur said and grinned. He gave a pause before continuing. "Seriously, Froy, you need to learn to be more observant. How else would I know in advance when father's in a foul mood?"

"Sorry, Sire. I will try to do bett'r." Froy responded sadly, oblivious to the fact that Arthur was only joking with him.

**End of Chapter 6**


	7. The Young Warlock's Tale

Arthur found the door to the war room ajar. Unsure of his father's fickle mood, he decided to be cautious and not make any hasty assumptions. He stole a reluctant glance into the room before entering. King Uther's dauntless and noble form was standing towards the rear of the room. He was looking intently out the window. With arms folded across his broad chest and an edge of a cream-colored paper peeking out from the crook of his elbow, Uther appeared to be absorbed in watching the aimless drifting of the snowflakes. The room appeared to be just as he had left it an hour ago, except without the presence of the court advisors. It seemed King Uther had dismissed them not too long ago, as the stale smells of old ale mixed with parchment and dried ink still circulated the air. Empty chairs scattered around the room untidily. The massive table in the center of the room brimmed with an array of papers and maps, everything untouched.

"Father, you wanted to see me?" Arthur said while stepping timidly through the doorway.

The tall majestic silver-haired figure spun around upon hearing his son's voice. The hems of his regal velveteen cloak tails swished against the wooden planks of the floor. Arthur half expected the usual hardened scowl from his father. But much to his surprise, Uther's usual stone-faced expression was replaced with one of relaxed mirth. It was such a refreshing change from the old drawn face of seriousness. There was color in his cheekbones and liveliness danced in his hardened slate blue eyes, which could only mean one thing – good news.

"Arthur! We have news from King Badon." Uther exclaimed as he zigzagged passed several chairs to approach his son. The wrinkled piece of paper was clenched tightly in his fist.

"What does he say?" Arthur asked, while eyeing his father suspiciously. Uther pushed the paper forth and gestured for Arthur to take it. Arthur took the semi-crumpled letter and straightened it enough to see the writing.

"He has accepted the treaty. Arthur, Camelot will be spared a war." Uther blurted out before Arthur could begin to read the neat black cursive lettering on the parchment.

"Father, can it be true?" Arthur looked up, skeptical.

"Go on, read it." Uther urged and clasped his hands together happily. But each time Arthur turned to the paper, he was interrupted again by Uther. "This is good news indeed. He has agreed to most of our terms and is willing to negotiate the rest." He summarized.

"So, this is it. There will be no war." Arthur said, half grateful yet half slightly disappointed. He had to admit that although he was just as against a war as Uther, he was often times a bold prince with a bit of an ego especially when it came to proving he was a winner.

"At the time being." Uther replied. "If King Badon is willing to work on a truce, then I am willing to go the extra mile." Arthur glanced back to the paper and tried to pick up where he left off, only to be interrupted once again.

"Things can only get better now. We each have to take a step back and I'm very pleased that Badon made the right decision. No war means no casualties." Uther said as he paced in anticipation. "If you'll read the letter, he has agreed on most of our trade compromises. I know there are some kicks we need to iron out, but those can be settled in a civil manner."

Uther finally remained silent long enough for Arthur to finish reading the letter. Arthur barely changed expressions as his eyes darted back and forth following the lines King Badon wrote. When he was done, he looked up blankly at his father.

"Well, what do you think?" Uther asked anxiously.

"It's a good beginning." Arthur said in a dry tone.

"Is something the matter? You don't seem too thrilled about the news." Uther said after studying Arthur's reticent behavior.

"No, no. I am. It's great that both sides are making efforts to reconcile differences. It's just that…do you think Badon can be trusted?" Arthur sighed.

"Ah, the answer to that question is no. I don't trust Badon. But I'm acting on behalf of all of Camelot. I must do what is in the best interest of the kingdom – even if it means shying away from a war. I made my argument quite clear to Badon in our correspondence. Badon is a very greedy man, but I know that he is also a most cautious man."

"Perhaps you need to have a bit of faith in your army." Arthur blurted.

"Do you think I'm a coward for not engaging in war?" Uther's firm voice raised a notch. "Do you really think I have that little faith in our army? Quite on the contrary, I have the most confidence in our army. We have a strong one at that and I have no doubt they will fight for their kingdom as required of them. Arthur, I don't think you fully understand the state of war. There is a bigger picture here. Lands could be split up, power could be lost, people – our people - could die. If I hadn't known better, I would think you _wanted_ to go to battle."

"You know very well that have just as little desire as you do for a raging battle." Arthur shot back defensively. "But his men torched Stilton and Hanan."

"The damage has been done to those small villages. The people of Stilton have moved to Plerie and the people of Hanan have relocated to either Plerie or Beatty. We have sent supplies and men to aid. There isn't anything more we can do." Uther explained. "They may have lost their homes, but we're doing all we can for those people. There have been some deaths reported but the casualties have been minimal and we want to keep it that way."

"What you say is true. But I feel there should be some sort of justice after all this." Arthur said stubbornly.

"There will be. I know you seek retaliation and retribution – but you must think of the consequences and make decisions based on that. A small sacrifice for the greater good of mankind."

"I suppose." Arthur murmured and sighed. "I can't help but be angry at least a little…knowing what one of his men did to Mer –" He stopped abruptly.

"So, this is all about a servant. I see." Uther understood the reason for Arthur's defiance. "You are a prince, Arthur. Do you know what that means? It means you are above everyone else – especially the hired help. You are royalty. You cannot feel sorry for lowly servants. It is their duty to answer to your every beck and call. They do not have rights." He turned around and walked to the window with his hands behind his back.

"Father –" Arthur interjected. His voice was calmer than usual. "Do you know what it's like to have a real friend? I'm not talking about someone who calls on you only when they are in need of a favor or in need of your money. I'm not talking about someone who comes bearing expensive gifts to be used as bribes. I'm talking about a _real_ , true, honest friend."

Uther turned around and faced his son. "Arthur…"

"Well, have you?" Arthur pressed. "All my life, I've known people of royal blood. Noble blood, they call it. They were the ones I called my _friends._ But it was only so when they had everything to gain. When things were falling out of place, they wanted nothing to do with me. They weren't my true friends because friends don't do that to each other. Friends are supposed to be there for you no matter what – thick and thin."

"And this _servant_ is such a friend to you?" Uther placed a rather disgusted emphasis on the word 'servant'.

"I would say that he is." Arthur admitted adamantly.

Uther glanced at Arthur and let out a thundering, yet jovial laugh. He put a finger to his chin and said, "Arthur, you never cease to amaze me. You've gone through a multitude of crazy and ridiculous fads in your life, but this has got to top it all. I've never figured you'd develop a weak spot for servants."

"This is not a childhood phase." Arthur challenged, still stewing inside. "And I do _not_ have a weak spot for the servants." He retorted childishly.

"Well, you _have_ been under a lot of stress lately. With all this talk of war and battle strategies, perhaps the stress has gone to your head. You need some time off – a vacation of some sort." Uther rubbed the day-old stubble under his chin with his index finger. "After the negotiations and papers have been sealed, I don't see why you can't have a few days to yourself."

"Now you are just making fun of me." Arthur said bluntly. "I'm not going crazy."

"Don't go putting words into my mouth. I simply meant that you needed a break." Uther said.

"You've changed the subject – as usual. Just because you don't know what it's like to have a real friend." The prince raised his voice in defiance.

"Why are you being so difficult today? This is all over a lowly servant." Uther was starting to lose his patience.

"I should remind you that he was the same _lowly_ servant who saved my life on multiple occasions. He was also the same _lowly_ servant who brought back the Amulet of Avalon despite the fact that he nearly got himself killed. He is not worthless by any means."

"Arthur, what is this all about? I've never seen you so worked up before. As I recall, you used to hate him and now the change of heart. Why is this Merlin so important to you?"

"Because father," Arthur said roughly, but suddenly changed his manner of speaking to one of great gentleness. "Merlin is my friend. He risked his life for us and the people of Camelot. Look, we may have started off on the wrong foot, but I've really got to know him. He's different than the other servants I've ever had. Merlin can be trusted."

Uther turned and walked towards the window. Out from the window, he noticed the scene below the tower. Maids and servants alike were scurrying along the square bundled up in their warmest clothing. The increasing snowfall did not seem to hinder them. In fact, they appeared to find delight in the icy flakes when they came into contact with their faces. The room was silent for the longest moment. He was not disappointed in Arthur. It only amazed him how much Arthur reminded him of Ygraine. He remembered her soft voice, the fragrant smell of her skin, the lilacs in her beautiful corn silk hair, the shape of her rosy lips, and even the way her nose used to wrinkle each time she smiled. Uther missed her so much. Arthur never knew his mother but he inherited plenty from her. Aside from her gentle eyes, there was the fortitude, commitment, a sense of justice for all people, and most of all – compassion and heart. Uther was beginning to see this now. In fact, he had been seeing this more and more for the past few months. Ygraine's image lived in Arthur.

In the square, a young, fair-haired milk maid accidentally dropped her basket. A few items wrapped in cloth, which Uther guessed to be cheese and perhaps butter, rolled out. As she bent down to gather them, a carpenter who happened to be passing by stopped to help her pick up the packages. They then exchanged a few words and smiles, and went on their way.

 _The simple lives of servants. They are so poor, yet they have so much._ Uther thought.

He could not be angry with Arthur for being civil and righteous. For the first time in his life, Arthur was fighting for something other than a self-centered reason. It was not about faster stallions or higher quality swords or the latest hunting equipment or finer clothes. No. This was about someone's dignity. The sudden shift from bickering over material desires to defending a servant was going from one extreme to the other. Something changed Arthur. Maybe it had something to do with Merlin after all. Uther wondered how an _ordinary_ servant could leave such a big impact on Arthur.

"So, what have you heard?" Uther finally asked.

"I beg your pardon?" Arthur questioned, sounding rather confused.

"About Merlin. What is the latest on his condition?" Uther said.

"Err, well – the wounds from the gargoyle are causing him much discomfort and brought about a high fever. In addition to that, he has a concussion from a blow to the head. Gaius has him sedated." Arthur stammered. He was baffled at Uther's sudden concern. It was not like him to inquire about the health of a servant.

According to King Uther, the purpose of any servant was to serve and only serve. He never cared whether they were sick or injured. He didn't care about their troubles, needs, or wants. He didn't even care to know any of their names. All he required was that they serve and serve well, or suffer the consequences. If the king were to be displeased by the conduct of a servant, severe punishment would result. In the high courts, servants were expendable and very easily replaced. Through the king's eyes, it was a luxury to be a servant of royalty and most poor villagers would be considered pretty damned lucky to have landed any job within the castle grounds. To change this point of view and suddenly develop feelings for a servant was absurd. Yet, Uther wondered why Arthur had so much influence over him.

"Are his needs provided for?" Uther asked, trying not to show any sense of emotion in his voice.

"Yes, for the most part. But – there are a few things that should be improved. For instance, their chambers is cold as ice and –" Arthur began, but only to be interrupted rudely by Uther.

"I don't need to hear the details. Just have whatever needs to be done – done." Uther demanded. "Repairs, firewood, food, blankets – whatever." He waved, surprising Arthur all the same.

Arthur remained quiet, not knowing what he should say to his father's generosity. He realized this was the easiest he'd ever had to prove his point. Usually, it took several days of protest and rebellion to get his father to even consider his side of the story. And even then, his father may reject his petitions entirely. This was way too easy. Arthur wondered why his father was being so lenient and charitable to a servant. It never really occurred to him the reason behind Uther's change of heart. Seeing the imprint of Ygraine in Arthur softened Uther.

"As for Badon, I will handle him with a careful eye. You need not worry about it." Uther sighed. "Seeing how Merlin's credits have earned him a step up from the common servant and seeing how strongly you feel about him, I will put his tragic demise into account."

Arthur only stood and listened. He couldn't believe what he just heard and wondered if his ears were deceiving him.

"I shall need to prepare for a court meeting and will send for you when I'm ready. I suggest you check on your knights in the meantime. They're on the training grounds." Uther instructed. He took the letter back from Arthur and went to the table. He proceeded to open a thick log book and thumb through a ream of pages.

"Why are you standing there?" Uther said when he noticed his son still in the room. "Go before I change my mind about Merlin."

"Yes, father." Arthur snapped out of his trance and lopped towards the door, still very much perplexed by what just happened.

"Arthur?" Uther called. His son turned around. "I _do_ know what it's like to have a real friend. Just because I'm king, it doesn't mean I'm oblivious to my surroundings. I don't let vanity blind me. I know who my true friends are. I think it odd that you've found a friend in a servant. It just takes getting used to."

"I understand." Arthur said and dipped his head reverently before he left the room.

M.M.M.

He hadn't realized it had gotten so late. There were so many duties and responsibilities attached to the title of a crowned prince. Sometimes, Arthur wished for the old days again where he didn't have a care in the world. Back then, he whiled away the time playing practical jokes on others and gallivanting off with his so-called friends till all hours of the night. Coming of age was something he once anticipated and often boasted freely about – mostly because of the immature idea of being one step closer to the royal throne. Now that the time had come to take on the role of Crowned Prince, he realized it was not as luxurious as he initially thought. The power and the glory came with a price. Basically, he was a king-in-training, which meant there were adjustments and sacrifices he had to make to his daily life.

He entered through the wooden door that led to Gaius' chamber. The spark of a medium fire in the hearth lit the room. Tall shadows of items cast upon the walls. It was a soft, cozy feeling of home. Gaius appeared to be just about finished mixing and measuring medicines at the counter as he placed a cork on one of the vials.

At first glance, Arthur noticed the bed by the fireplace was empty. His eyes darted across the room to a figure seated at the table with his back facing the doorway. Merlin had a brown blanket draped over his shoulders like a long cape. Tufts of dark hair protruded through the sides of the white cloth bandage that wrapped around his head. He appeared to be sitting with a slouch. Arthur closed the door behind him to conserve the warmth. The squeak of the hinges and soft footsteps lead Gaius and Merlin to notice their visitor. Gaius turned into a smile upon seeing the prince. Merlin jumped slightly when he heard the sudden noise, but quickly covered his nervousness.

"Arthur, you're here!" Gaius exclaimed. "The carpenter came and said it was the king's top orders to have the window repaired." He pointed to the rickety old window that was no longer rattling with every gust of wind. "Then, servants brought a load of firewood. And shortly after, the kitchen servants delivered all this food. They said it was all from the courtesy of his majesty. Arthur, I know you had something to do with all this and I want to extend my thanks to you."

As Arthur walked closer to the table, he noticed a tray of food. There were cheeses, bread, some meats, beef stew, vegetables, and fresh fruit. There was even an urn containing milk. A dozen brown raw eggs were gently placed in a straw basket alongside a checkered cloth covering several honey cakes. Arthur was pleased that his orders were carried out. However, he made a mental note that he should have some chicken broth delivered next time.

"You needn't thank me. It was my father's orders. And he has instructed the servants deliver fresh food daily. And anything that you need will be at your disposal." Arthur said, not wanting to take full credit. He eyed Merlin, who did not look up. The young warlock's eyes remained on the cup in front of him.

"He's doing a bit better. My elixir was very effective in bringing down the fever." Gaius whispered. "I will make some more tea." He said changing the subject and abruptly became busy with a kettle of water.

"Merlin, I see you're feeling better." Arthur said. He made his way to a chair directly opposite the young warlock. Merlin's big blue eyes finally turned up. His complexion was as ghastly as ever. He appeared to be stiff and slightly slouched like as if a slight change in position would cause some great pain. As the prince took his seat, he noticed Merlin's hands shaking ever so slightly as they curled around the cup. When Merlin saw that Arthur was staring at his hands, he drew them away and hid them in the folds of his blanket.

"Yes, sire. I wanted to sit at the table. Gaius said it would be good for my circulation." Merlin said.

This was the first time Arthur heard Merlin say a complete thought without breaking into hysterics. Merlin's voice was softer than usual and the need to draw in a breath after a couple words made him appear even more fragile. Arthur could tell that Merlin was trying very hard to be strong.

"It's good to see you up." Arthur said, searching for kind words. It was difficult to fall to the level of friends when he was so used to being the master.

"Thank you, Sire. I mean, for the food. I would eat it, but my stomach's not cooperating. Not sure I can hold down anything." Merlin turned his eyes away to avoid eye contact.

"It's alright." Arthur said. He'd never seen Merlin this way before. Something was terribly different. There was no spunk or fight left in him, only a scared and sad reticence.

Merlin took his hands out of the blanket and reached for his cup. He lifted it to his lips, all the while showing a trembling of the hand. He took a few sips of tea before setting the cup back down on the table.

"Merlin, your hands are shaking." Arthur observed.

"Oh, it's nothing." Merlin faltered. His hands disappeared back under the blanket. There was a short pause before he continued. "I know I'm behind on my chores. I just need another day to recover. Then I'll be back at your service."

"We're not going to worry about that. Besides, I will certainly not allow you go back to your duties until Gaius says you're healthy enough to resume work. There will be no more discussion on this." Arthur said strongly. "You were nearly killed, Merlin. Your life's got to count for something."

Merlin remained silent. Gaius brought over a fresh pot of tea. He poured a cup for Arthur, refilled Merlin's cup, and poured himself a cup. Gaius took a seat next to Merlin.

"Oh yes, I nearly forgot to tell you all the good news. King Badon has agreed to a truce. There will be no war between our kingdoms." Arthur announced. Gaius drew back and clasped his hands together. Merlin looked up.

"What a relief!" Gaius said.

"We've been drawing up the papers for the last five hours. There will be negotiations to come in the next few days. But father is confident that we can all come to an agreement." Arthur explained.

"I think everyone would be glad to hear that. There's nothing better than a peaceful resolution." Gaius said.

Arthur took a sip of tea. "Well then, if you feel up to it. Perhaps you'd like to do a little explaining." Arthur finally said to Merlin. Merlin glanced at Gaius, who gave a short nod of the head. He found it hard finding his voice. A soft quivered breath escaped his lips.

"It's alright. Just start from the beginning. Take your time." Gaius coached. Merlin swallowed the lump in his throat.

"Arthur, you have to understand that I _had_ to do what I did. I had no choice. It was because of me that the amulet fell into the wrong hands in the first place."

"It wasn't your fault. Blais tricked all of us." Arthur said.

"But it was me who led him into the temple." Merlin said bitterly.

"He put a spell on you. It was not something you or anyone could have prevented. He was beyond all of us. And when we all realized who he was, it was too late. So, please don't take this upon yourself. You are not to be blamed for this." Arthur felt quite surprised that these compassionate words came from his mouth.

"I devised a plan to sneak pass the guards and get out of Camelot. I carried it out the following evening when everyone was caught up in the potential war. No one paid any attention to a poor servant like me." Merlin decided to leave out the fact that he enchanted the three guards that stood in his way that night. "It wasn't hard to find out where Blais had gone with the amulet. When he was in the disguise of a pauper, I remembered he had a strange smell to him – like sage. There is only one area that I know of that grew wild sage – Kitna Valley. I tracked him. I really did pay attention when you showed me how to track, Arthur."

Merlin omitted the real way he tracked Blais - through his magical connection. Gaius was impressed on how quick Merlin was able to create alternatives to the truth.

"To get to Kitna Valley, I had to go through –" Merlin said.

"Hanan." Arthur finished Merlin's sentence. "One of the villages that Badon's men torched." He shook his head in dismay. Merlin gave a nod.

"When I arrived, the village was already destroyed. Some houses were still on fire, while others had burnt to the ground. There was nothing left. It was a h-horrible sight. Dead bodies were piled everywhere – some burned and some pierced with swords. Badon's men were rummaging through the piles for money and valuables. Any survivors were left running for their lives." Merlin swallowed hard. "I had to be careful because I saw what the men did to an old squire that they caught. They beat him pretty bad. I waited for the men to leave so I could make it across the clearing. When the time finally came, I took it."

Merlin again left out the part where he led the men on a wild goose chase by setting a magic spell creating noises in the opposite direction of clearing that sounded like Pendragon Knights approaching.

"I ran as fast as I could. Just when I thought I reached the woods in safety, one of the knights came out from behind a tree. He caught me by surprise. There was nowhere to run. If he had known I served for Pendragon, he would have killed me on the spot. B-but seeing how I was dressed, he mistook me for a common villager." Merlin's voice shook.

Arthur sat listening intently with wide eyes.

"I-I begged to be spared. But he – he just laughed at me. Then he drew his sword. I thought he was going to kill me. I dropped to my knees and pleaded for my life. He drew the sword back and – and struck me over the head with the pommel. Then everything went black. The next thing I knew, I woke up lying on the ground with a dreadful headache and warm blood covering my face and neck." Merlin turned his eyes away from Arthur, who had a look of growing anger. "I – I couldn't lift my head for a while because of the pain. I don't know how long I was unconscious."

Two large droplets of tears fell from Merlin's eyes. He quickly brushed them away with his fingers before they had a chance to slide down his pale cheeks. Arthur, who was filled with anguish, slammed a clenched fist down onto the table.

"He just left you there to die?" Arthur grieved. "I'll – I'll kill him! I swear it, I'll find him and I'll kill him."

Merlin quit crying and eyed the old physician. It was a look that told Gaius he was sorry for not being able to think up a quick spell to defend himself from the knight. Gaius only smiled back affectionately and touched Merlin's shoulder in sympathy, encouraging him to go on with the story.

"When I got my strength back, I journeyed onwards to Kitna Valley. I was quite dizzy but I had to finish what I started." Merlin continued, voice getting softer. "The forest was dark and I could barely find my way about. It was the glow of the lime stones reflecting from the moon that lit my path. After some time, I tracked Blais into a cavern at the foot of the valley. There, I entered his lair."

Merlin omitted the part about him casting a glowing spell upon the stones before him, so he could find his way. The moon had very little to do with anything.

"I walked deeper and deeper into the cavern. There, I saw Blais in true form – a sorcerer with thin black lips and pointy teeth. He was tall and wispy – reminded me of a weeping willow. He was bent over a magic basin of water with the amulet raised in his hand. He chanted some sort of spell and the amulet glowed in a blood red color."

"As you know, the amulet's natural color is a creamy pearl color." Gaius said.

"Blais was transforming the amulet." Merlin said. "I had to put a stop to it before it was too late. There was a piece of an old root lying on the floor and I picked it up to use as a weapon. When I got close enough, I swung as hard as I could. He tumbled and the amulet fell out of his hand."

In reality, Blais knew Merlin had arrived. Blais was a powerful sorcerer and detecting a young warlock's presence wasn't hard. Merlin conjured up a ball of blue electricity and hurled it at Blais without warning. The blast caught Blais and threw him against the wall. The amulet flew in the opposite direction and landed on the floor.

"He was quite angry when he saw me standing there. He attacked me with magic, I ducked behind a boulder. I didn't know what to do at that point. Then I saw the amulet laying a few steps away from me. I've heard about the power of the amulet and what it could do. I tried to reach for it but it was too far."

This was far from the truth. Blais recovered from the blow quickly and returned the hit, missing Merlin by inches. There involved a lengthy battle of magic that left the den in near ruins. They scuffled and each took painful blows. Merlin was scared but he knew what must be done. Although he has not mastered harnessing his powers, he did the foolish thing of gathered up all the energy he had and casting it on Blais. The blue light emanated from within Merlin's body and in closing his eyes and tightening his fists, the electricity penetrated outward. It struck Blais. The impact struck the evil sorcerer and sent him flying through the stone wall. Merlin collapsed immediately from the exertion.

"I tried to make a run for it and grab the amulet, but Blais caught me. He had me by the throat." Merlin whimpered softly, not sure if he could go on. Gaius offered him a drink of tea, which he took reluctantly. "I could see the madness and fury in his eyes. He chanted some foreign words and suddenly, this huge black beast came out of nowhere. I realized it was the gargoyle and that Blais marked me."

What really happened? Just as Merlin was regaining consciousness, Blais had found his way out of the rubble. Blais clasped his fingers around Merlin's neck and toyed with the idea of ending the warlock's life. However, Blais decided he had a better idea. Therefore, he summoned his gargoyle and placed the deadly mark on Merlin's head.

"Blais released me and I backed away from him. The gargoyle came at me. B-but I ran – or at least I tried to run. I was very weak and tripped on some loose rock." Merlin's breathing was getting more and more labored. The horrible images came back to him. Here, he looked up at Arthur with new tears in his eyes. "I – I was on the floor. By the time I turned around, the gargoyle materialized over me. I had my back against the wall. Everything h-happened so fast. I – I – I remembered the monster's claw coming down on me. There was – was nothing I could do…" He sobbed. "The pain was horrible. There was blood – I couldn't move."

"Merlin." Arthur's voice came out in a sympathetic whisper. He watched Merlin's face contort into agony as he sobbed. "Merlin, it's alright. The worst is over. You're safe now and no one will hurt you again."

Merlin found solace in Arthur's caring words and continued. "Just as I was about to pass out from the pain, I saw the amulet within arm's reach. Out of desperation, I used whatever energy I had left to reach for it. But a strange thing happened. When the amulet was on the ground, it was red, but when I touched it, it changed to white. And – and I felt it's power run through me. Everything changed. There was a strong bright white light that came from it. It lit up the entire cave. The next thing I know, Blais was on fire and within seconds, his body became ash."

Merlin left out a large part of the story here. After the gargoyle left Merlin wounded, the only spell that came to mind was a shield spell to protect him from any further attacks from the gargoyle until he could figure out his next move. And so, he created a force field around him. The gargoyle continued to strike but the force field kept Merlin safe. Because of his injuries, the young warlock's magic grew weaker and weaker. He could see the cracks in the force field with every hit. He had to think of something fast. While the gargoyle was keeping Merlin busy, Blais was occupied with looking for the amulet that had fallen in the scuffle. Luckily, Blais paid very little attention to Merlin. With help of the amulet, he would be able to kill Merlin and possess the power to rule the universe. So at the moment, seizing the amulet was top priority.

Merlin caught sight of the amulet partially hidden behind a rock. It was not within arm's reach, as he had told Arthur. In fact, it was far from his reach. Breathing heavily, he dragged his body slowly towards his prize. He had to hurry before he exhausted his power and had to let the force field go. The gargoyle was strong, angry, unrelenting, and perhaps very hungry. The young warlock inched his way painfully to get closer to the amulet. Finally, when he was just about there, his force field vanished. The gargoyle snarled and snapped at Merlin, who attempted desperately to restore the force field over and over again but failed. He scrambled towards the amulet with all his might. Just then, Blais caught eye of Merlin.

Blais flew past Merlin and went for the amulet. Merlin promised that even if he was not able to defeat Blais, he was going to die trying. Because he was not concentrating his power on the force field, Merlin had energy left to conjure up a small spell. He summoned the amulet to come to him. Glowing red with evil, the amulet throbbed reluctantly for a few seconds. Ignoring the pain, Merlin called upon whatever strength he had left and commanded the amulet. His power was so great that the ground shook violently and divided all around him. Rock and soil crumbled and fell.

The amulet flew magnetically into Merlin's hand and in that instant, the magic within Merlin and the power of the amulet combined. Merlin's goodness turned the amulet pure white again. It created a force that pushed the gargoyle through the cavern walls and propelled him through the air. As for Blais, seeing the merge of power, knew he was no match for Merlin. Before he had a chance to retreat, a blinding white light immerged from Merlin's hand. The blast hit Blais squarely in the chest and the evil sorcerer burst into flames. Merlin gathered himself as fast he could and stumbled out of the cavern just as it caved in. His journey back to Camelot began thereafter.

"I ran as fast as I could. I had a good start but I knew the gargoyle would catch up if I didn't hurry." Merlin said. His chin shook and another teardrop rolled down his cheek like a glass marble. "Something told me that it was important the amulet be restored back in the Temple of Grace at once. I wasn't sure why it was so important but I felt it in my heart that something terribly wrong was going to happen if I didn't."

"You have right to be concerned, my dear boy. The power of the amulet weakens and becomes more vulnerable to evil when it is away from the temple. It's the energy in the temple that works with the amulet to preserve Camelot's protection." Gaius explained.

"There were moments where I thought I wasn't going to make it. The pain was just so intense. It was dark and I must've been running in circles. I was so close to giving up…" Merlin said. The only one who knew the whole truth was Gaius, who saw the vision through Merlin's eyes. Merlin wished so much to tell Arthur the real story.

"But you didn't give up. You brought the amulet back." Arthur pointed out.

Merlin couldn't hold the tears in anymore, even if it was in front of the Prince of Camelot. He tried so hard to be brave and strong but the trauma was just too great. This was the most frightful and horrible experience he ever had to endure alone. Hot tears streamed down his face so uncontrollably that he couldn't wipe them away fast enough. He stifled the sobs but they were so pitiful and heart wrenching that it touched even Arthur.

"The important thing is that you're alive. If only you told me about your plans. I would've gone with you. You didn't have to face it by yourself." Arthur muttered gently.

"I'm sorry." Merlin choked, tears still brimming in his eyes. He slouched a little lower in his chair. It was a muscle cramp that caused him to wince. "I hope you don't think me rude, but I need to lie down."

"Are you alright, Merlin?" Arthur pressed earnestly. He turned to Gaius when Merlin gave no immediate reply. "Gaius, is he alright? Is something wrong? What is it?"

"No need to fret." Gaius said calmly. He gingerly hoisted Merlin up and led him over to the bed by the fireplace. Arthur followed with a heavy heart. Seeing Merlin so fragile and weak really broke his heart. Merlin gave a loud grunt as he reclined on his side. He closed his eyes and swallowed, all the while breathing quite heavily.

"Do you want to lie on your back?" Gaius offered.

"No." Merlin whimpered. Although he looked rather uncomfortable, he preferred to remain in his semi-curled position. He was putting pressure on his wound but for some reason, it felt less painful when he did this. Gaius then drew a warm blanket over Merlin and smoothed out the folds around him. Arthur knelt down beside the bed so that he came face to face with Merlin.

"Please take care and get better. I can't stand seeing you this way." Arthur said softly.

"I'll be alright." Merlin said in a weak voice. "Remember Arthur, your promise. You will not to go to The Kayas under any circumstances."

"Don't worry. I wouldn't dream of going there." Arthur reassured. He looked up at Gaius. "I'll sleep in my usual place tonight." Gaius gave a nod. There was nothing he could do to persuade Arthur otherwise.

"Just one thing…" Merlin said. "If Blais marked me, why hasn't the gargoyle come to finish me off?"

"Gaius says it's because of the amulet. Once the amulet is restored to the temple, its power is protecting you. As long as you stay in Camelot, you're safe from the gargoyle."

"So, I'm not allowed to leave Camelot." Merlin pondered.

"No." Arthur said. "You're stuck here."

For the first time that night, Merlin's lips curled up in a weak smile. "You know, that's just great." He said in an annoyed tone, but meaning quite the contrary.

Gaius, seeing how their friendship had grown in just a matter of hours, was very satisfied. He excused himself and made himself busy concocting more medicine. Arthur sat with Merlin for a while, chatting away until Merlin fell asleep.

**End of Chapter 7**


	8. Torn

Gaius was a light sleeper. Being a physician, it was not uncommon to be sought for at any hour of the night to provide emergency medical assistance to those in need. He was one of those rare individuals who possessed cat-like sleep patterns, often dozing and waking at the mere sound of a mouse scurrying along in the corners of the kitchen. The aged physician lived a humble life and did not require much extravagance. Comfortable with living off the land, he never asked for much - only what he needed for medicine and science purposes. His practicality was something of a virtue to the king's royal court. An old mattress was adequate enough to sleep upon. He had moved his bed closer to the fireplace because he wanted to be closer to Merlin. Caring for Merlin took a lot of energy out of old Gaius. It wasn't just the fact that Merlin's wounds were so critical, but because Merlin was his life. He loved and worried about the boy as a true father would. Although he hardly expressed it, he suffered silently each day with Merlin.

The room was dark but from the glowing embers in the hearth, Gaius could see the outline of Merlin's sleeping figure tucked under the warm blanket. Aside from the occasional crackling of the wood smoldering in the fireplace, Gaius concentrated on two different sets of breathing. One was a series of steady and healthy inhales and exhales while the other was short, wheezy, and irregular breathing. Gaius turned his eyes over to Arthur, who was sleeping on the old birch arm chair that he had taken faithfully as a bed for the last few nights. The young prince was curled up with his back facing Gaius. A large old quilt blanket covered the prince's body with the top slightly draped over an ear. Another blanket had fallen and remained clustered around the chair on the floor. After many restless nights, Arthur was finally gaining some sleep. The prince might have fooled everyone, including perhaps even Merlin, into thinking he didn't care about what happened but Gaius knew it was very much the opposite.

The light snowfall earlier that day had turned into a blizzard. Outside, the snow was still coming down rapidly in thick chunks. Gaius eyed the layer of snow that had accumulated against the new window pane and was glad that the window had been fixed just in time for the storm. Seeing that Merlin appeared to be in no immediate danger, Gaius allowed his heavy eyelids to close. He focused on the rhythm of the boys' breathing. The meditation soon relaxed his mind and he dozed.

Gaius was soon awakened by a small sound. The sky was still a dull shade of brown, from the reflection of the snow. Judging by the color of the sky, Gaius knew it was still night. It probably hadn't been long since he dozed off. He rubbed his eyes to readjust to the darkness. Glancing around the room in search of the source of the noise, his eyes soon settled on Merlin. Merlin was sitting up facing the fireplace with his back to Gaius. His frame shook as he sobbed quietly. The sniffles were barely audible but Gaius heard it. He got up and made his way to Merlin's bed.

"Merlin." Gaius whispered as he took a seat next to the young warlock. After taking a better look at Merlin, Gaius realized that Merlin was crying heavily but doing a great job of stifling the sobs. The boy's whole body racked as the tears took him.

Merlin buried his face in his fists. Full of fear, resentment, and anger, for the first time, he dared to wish he'd never set foot upon Camelot. All the childish fantasies about going to the "big city" had vanished. He no longer dreamed of castles and excitement. There wasn't anything he wouldn't give to go back to Ealdor, where he belonged - living an easy simple country life. He understood why his mother sent him to Camelot and couldn't bring it upon himself to blame her for sending him away. It was supposed to be for his own good and protection. As he aged, the magic grew stronger and stronger. Hunith noticed it and knew what she had to do to keep her son safe – even at the cost of her own happiness. But Camelot was so far from home. It took weeks for a letter to reach his mother and another few weeks for a reply. Merlin wondered if Gaius had written to her about what happened.

Merlin wanted the comfort that he believed only his mother could give. Even though Gaius was there for him, he really hadn't known Gaius all that long. There was something about a mother's touch that just made everything, however terrible, alright again. He never felt so utterly and completely alone. He had no one. The more he thought of this, the harder he cried.

"It's alright, Merlin." Gaius tried to be supportive. "They're just dreams."

Merlin said nothing. He just couldn't explain to Gaius what he was feeling. There were no words to describe the degree of despair and suffering that he felt. He just wanted it all to go away. For a lack of anything other than self-pity, he could do nothing but cry. Seeing how Merlin ignored his comments, Gaius offered the boy a hug. The old physician was not one who often dispensed hugs as a sign of comfort and affection, but he somehow knew what Merlin needed. Merlin was just a boy and he had no one else. Merlin returned the embrace and held onto Gaius ever so tightly. Gaius' robes absorbed the young warlock's tears. Stroking the boy's dark mousy hair, he held on as long as Merlin needed.

After a while, Merlin released his hold on Gaius and looked him tears brimming in his eyes. "Why Gaius? Why?" He choked. The tears slid off his pale cheeks and the tip of his nose. And the question Gaius never wanted to hear suddenly rolled off young Merlin's tongue. "Why did I live? It would've been better if Blais killed me."

"Merlin!" Gaius gasped in a whisper. "Surely you don't know what you're saying."

"If only I had the good sense to die. I wish you hadn't saved me. You should've just let me die. I wouldn't have to feel anything." The young warlock muttered.

"I won't have this sort of talk. You're not a selfish person. You could've let go that night but you didn't. There was a reason why you hung on. You cared too much. It was your duty. You knew what must be done. It's in your destiny."

"I don't care about destinies anymore. I'm so tired of hearing it. I'm just a person – a peasant, manservant to Prince Arthur of Camelot. I'm a nobody."

"No, you are by far _NOT_ a nobody, Merlin. You have an extraordinary gift. Very few people possess what you have. You may often see it as a nuisance – a bother, always getting you into some sort of trouble – but it's what makes you _you._ Embrace it. You may not see its purpose now, but trust me, in the future – all will be clear to you. There is a reason for everything."

"I'm scared. I've never been so scared in my whole life." Merlin whispered. "I don't know what to do. I get these horrible visions or dreams or whatever it is. I can't tell what's real anymore. Is it evil of me, Gaius, to wish I was dead?" Merlin questioned with chin quivering. Tears started building in the boy's eyes once again.

"Hunith left you in my charge and I promised to look after you. I will do everything in my power to keep you safe from harm." Gaius sighed. "Believe it or not, Merlin, I have grown rather fond of you since your first day in Camelot. You are like a son to me and I treat you as such. So when you go on saying things like wishing you were dead, it truly breaks my heart. I love you too much to let anything bad happen to you."

Merlin's wide and moist marble blue eyes grew as he absorbed Gaius' confession. He never realized how much Gaius cared about him. Hearing these words meant so much to Merlin. Perhaps he wasn't alone after all. An array of turbulent emotions both physical and mental enveloped the young warlock. Never had he felt so miserable and loved at the same time. Touched by Gaius' words, he burst into tears.

"Shhh," Gaius soothed and pulled Merlin close. The poor boy was so fragile and broken that the sight of him nearly brought Gaius to tears.

"Don't tell Arthur any of what I said." Merlin choked, trying hard to keep his voice as low as possible so as not to wake the crowned prince, who was sleeping just a few feet away. "Please, don't tell him." He whispered, ashamed.

"I won't." Gaius promised. "Now, drink this." He took out a small vial from his pocket. "It will help with the pain and calm your nerves. It'll let you sleep better too." He uncorked the top and handed it to Merlin. Merlin took it with shaking hands and emptied the contents.

"Now, lie down." Gaius instructed. Merlin reluctantly obeyed.

"Stay near me." Merlin pleaded softly after Gaius tucked him in under the blanket.

"I'm right here." Gaius replied. He took a seat on a stool.

The fire in the hearth was slowly dying out, giving the room a mellow glow. Gaius could see Merlin's pale face staring intently at him. He knew the medicine will take its effect soon enough but the helpless, frightened way the young warlock looked at him was just so overwhelming.

"I know you're scared, child. You will heal." Gaius said in a most soothing and sure voice. He leaned in and whispered, "Merlin, you need to give yourself some credit. No one would have done what you did – not even the bravest of Arthur's knights. You went beyond your call of duty. Such drive and determination. You have it in you." It wasn't much of a pep talk but Gaius wanted the boy to be proud of his accomplishments.

Perhaps all Merlin ever wanted was just a bit of kindness and understanding. Gaius was the closest person he had in all of Camelot. Without Gaius, Camelot was a cold place for Merlin. He liked to count Arthur as a friend, but the looming status of prince and manservant made it quite difficult.

As he stared at Gaius, Merlin's big saucer eyes shook as they filled up with tears again. "I – I don't regret what I did. It was my fault the Amulet went into the wrong hands. I know you say I wasn't to blame but I had to make things right. I _had_ to do it. I risked my life. It's alright because my life, it's not worth much. I couldn't let Arthur down." Merlin's chin quivered ever so slightly.

"Going off by yourself was very foolish and perhaps there were many things you could've done different, but you are wrong to say that you're worthless. Arthur would protest to that. If you had died, you would've surely let Arthur down." Gaius pointed out.

"Arthur….he's different." Merlin's voice trembled. "He's almost…kind."

"Arthur's grown a lot in the last few days." Gaius chuckled lightly. "He's beginning to take notice of things around him."

"You mean the prat has finally grown a brain?" Merlin said, trying desperately to make a light of the situation but was failing miserably. More tears fell.

"Merlin." Gaius called tenderly. "It's going to be alright."

The medication soon started to weigh down on Merlin's weak body. Merlin's eyes felt puffy and heavy as a result of the drugs and excessive crying. A sudden spasm of pain caused him to flinch. He winced and a moan escaped his lips. But the pain appeared to dissolve almost instantly. He often wondered what ingredient Gaius used in his concoctions that made it work so quickly and effectively. Perhaps it was a rare mushroom or an exotic weed of some sort. Whatever it was, it was as good as magic.

"You're tired. Sleep, Merlin." Gaius advised.

Merlin closed his eyes. His shoulders sank deep into the fluff of pillows around him and the knotted tenseness of the muscles in his lower back untwined and relaxed. Soon, his whole body felt light as a feather drifting in the wind. Numbness surrounded the pain. His eyebrows furrowed and he let out a soft troubled sigh before allowing himself to fall completely into the darkness. A stray tear that hung onto Merlin's eyelash aimlessly slid down his tear-stained face. Gaius caught the tear midway across the boy's cheek and brushed it away with a thumb. In doing so, he felt the warmth of Merlin's skin.

"Hmm, feverish again." Gaius mumbled to himself as he felt Merlin's forehead to confirm his diagnosis. He couldn't decide if the fever was caused by Merlin being ill or the magic that boiled within the young warlock's veins. "Perhaps you will feel better in the morning." The old physician muttered. Gaius watched Merlin sleep for a few minutes. He recalled the words that passed the young boy's lips. Thoughts took to his mind…

_How could this dear boy wish to die? Did he ever stop to think how his death would affect those around him? We – correction –_ _**I** _ _would never forgive myself if anything happened to him. What was Merlin thinking? To be put out of his misery like a horse with a broken leg? Never. Ah, but the poor boy seems so troubled. He has the weight of the world on his shoulders and with good reason, but I will try to lessen the burden. The truth is - I care too much about him to let him go._

He shook his head in dismay….

_And to think that he was so concerned about Arthur hearing him wishing to die. Not sure how Arthur would react to that. One thing's for sure, I'm glad it was idle talk and Arthur will never know._

Gaius made the ultimate display of affection. He reached over and gave Merlin a small kiss on the forehead. It was alright because no one witnessed it. He then tended to the fire and headed back to bed. Pretty soon, Gaius was snoring again.

Gaius was premature in thinking Arthur would never know of this little episode. They assumed Arthur was sound asleep curled up on that old birch chair, when in fact he was awake. Merlin's sniffles had initially awakened the Prince first. But just as he was about to see what was wrong, Gaius had sprung out of bed. And in thinking that Gaius had tended to the situation, there was no need for Arthur to get up. He happened to hear every word of their conversation.

Arthur was shocked at what Merlin had to say. He couldn't believe his own ears. He wondered if his own cruelty towards the servant had anything to do with the way he felt. Perhaps life was a living hell for Merlin and Arthur's bitterness fueled it. In the beginning, Arthur found it amusing to make Merlin's life difficult. He did it only to spite Merlin. He never meant for it to get too far. It was true that they started off on the wrong foot, but he'd grown quite fond of the bumbling idiot as time went on. There was something different about Merlin. He wasn't like all the other servants Arthur had in the past. There was something in Merlin that made him worthy of being called a friend.

Many questions and concerns arose in Arthur's head. Merlin's desire to die was certainly not something that ever crossed Arthur's mind. Merlin was supposed to be happy-go-lucky even if he had a hundred chores to complete. Arthur's never seen Merlin so full of despair and inner turmoil. Merlin had way too much spunk and retribution in him to reduce to a puddle of tears. He was strong and often a survivor of situations no matter how trivial. The encounter with Blais and the unruly events of that dreadful night changed Merlin. His spirit was broken. Hearing Merlin's desperate sobbing softened Arthur's heart.

And what exactly did Gaius mean when he said Merlin had an extraordinary gift? What gift was this? Why was it in Merlin's destiny? What did Gaius know that he didn't? Arthur reviewed Gaius' words over and over in his head and still could not make heads or tails of it. He went back and forth in his mind whether or not he should confront them in the morning and make his inquiries. Perhaps it would be best not to say anything at this time.

Thereafter, Arthur found it almost impossible to find sleep. The image of Merlin struggling to get a grasp on his life, followed by the enigmatic words spoken by the wise old physician were enough to send Arthur's mind reeling. Arthur shifted his position on the chair to face Merlin. He stared at the innocent and peaceful sleeping features of Merlin's boyish face by the light from the fireplace. Strong medicine overpowered the warlock for he did not even stir. Merlin seemed so free of pain in his slumber. It was daunting to know Merlin was capable of such wicked thoughts. Obviously, something made Merlin snap. Arthur watched Merlin for a long time and promised over and over again to be more civil towards the clumsy servant.

_He is MY manservant. That means he is MY property, which means I should look after and defend my property. Therefore, I shall not allow any one or any thing to hurt him ever again. I should be as loyal to him as he is to me._

Arthur tossed and turned for a while, trying desperately to fall asleep. His active imagination made sleep unattainable. He wished he hadn't heard Merlin and Gaius' damned conversation in the first place. He needed to keep a closer eye on Merlin and make sure Merlin would think no more of those nasty thoughts. Exhausted, his tense mind finally relaxed a few hours before dawn and sleep washed over him.

M.M.M.

Arthur woke to the cracking sound of egg shells the next morning. From the old birch chair, he could see Gaius scurrying about preparing breakfast. He was quick but very quiet in his movements. The smell of hot food coming from pots in the fireplace was an eye-opener for Arthur. Gaius was adding spices while stirring the contents of a pot. The prince's eyes immediately traveled to the lanky figure sitting at the table. He'd found the source of the noise that had awakened him. Merlin was tapping an egg with the back of a spoon. His servant's shoulders were covered with a blanket and he appeared to be rather stiff in his posture. Arthur yawned tiredly, pushed back the covers and stretched out his sore muscles. He caught the attention of the others at last.

"Good morning, Sire." Gaius said cheerfully while dipping his head. He had too much enthusiasm for Arthur's taste. It was way too early in the day for any sort of giddiness, especially when the prince hadn't eaten yet.

Because of his condition, Merlin was a little late in wishing the prince a pleasant morning. As Pendragon custom had it, the hired help were required to stand and bow respectfully before the royal figures in the castle when expressing a greeting. But Arthur was not so demanding of tradition that morning and insisted Merlin remain seated.

"Why didn't you wake me?" Arthur said to Gaius as he took a chair at the table facing Merlin.

"You haven't had a good sleep in days." Gaius replied. "I figured it would do you some good to let you sleep a while longer." He went back to tending the pots on the fire. "I'll fix you some breakfast. You must be hungry."

Arthur did not deny the invitation to breakfast - mostly because he was famished and he knew at some point during the day, the kitchen servants would replenish the day's supply of quality food to Gaius' chamber. His attention turned to Merlin.

"Merlin, how goes it?" Arthur asked. "Appetite up now?" He noticed the egg shells scattered on the plate. Apparently, Merlin was up to his second poached egg.

"I'm quite well. H-how did you sleep?" Merlin stammered while trying to hide his frayed nerves.

"Better." Arthur lied. "You?"

"Pretty well. The medicine helped." Merlin said. It was a stretch of the truth though not a complete lie. He could not bring himself to making eye contact with Arthur for fear the prince could see right through him. There was an awkward pause. Neither of the boys knew what to say after covering up their turbulent night.

"You should eat." Arthur broke the silence.

Merlin took up his spoon and finished his egg. He felt rather uncomfortable that Arthur should watch him eat and observe him so closely. It made him nervous. Well, everything made him nervous lately. Merlin reached for the basket containing bread and cheese across from him. His hand was still shaking so bad that he almost knocked it over. Merlin would use the option of magic to draw the basket. But he couldn't do that in front of Arthur.

"Here you are." Arthur pushed the bread basket towards Merlin.

"Thank you, Sire." Merlin said softly. He grabbed a wedge of bread and nibbled on it. He turned his eyes downward and seemed to be concentrating on the crumbs on the table.

"Looks like it snowed heavily last night. And it's still falling." Arthur said as his eyes darted towards the window. When all else failed, talk about the weather. "It is a fine day to be building snowmen and having snowball fights, especially now that we don't have to prepare for war. The pressure is off for the most part."

Merlin nodded but remained speechless. It really wasn't like Merlin to remain quiet for such a long time. He was often full of opinions – usually more than Arthur cared for. But right then, he wanted nothing more than to hear Merlin chatter away at nonsense.

"Under the circumstances, going outside would be impossible. Well not to worry, the winter is still young. Perhaps when you have recovered, there will be another snow storm." Arthur said. Again, Merlin nodded.

"Gaius, what are you cooking there? It smells great." Arthur called across the room.

"I do hope you boys are hungry." Gaius brought over two plates with thick slices of boiled ham and cabbage along with more poached eggs. He set the items on the table and returned to the fire to make tea.

Arthur was not shy about forking his share, because he was starving. He'd lost his appetite for food the last few days as a result of worrying about Merlin's teetering health and of the possibility of war. Now that all the wrinkles in life seem to be smoothing out, Arthur was a bit more relaxed. Gaius returned with a pot of tea and sat down next to Merlin. Knowing of Merlin's unsteadiness, he cut a slice of ham into bite-sized portions for the boy before tending to his own plate. Arthur took a few mouthfuls of food and chewed it ravenously. Gaius was a mediocre cook. He was no match when compared to the master cooks of the royal court kitchens. Gaius often either put too much spice or too little spice in his dishes. Merlin hardly ever complained because he knew he was lucky to have the food that he got. It may not be the best, but at least he ran on a full stomach each day. Arthur's taste buds, however, were used to food cooked to perfection. On this particular occasion, Arthur was hungry and when one was that hungry, just about anything tasted good.

The next few minutes were spent in silence as the threesome ate their fill. Arthur polished off his plate quickly and took a second helping, whereas Merlin took forever to finish his portion. Merlin took a drink from his wooden goblet. He held it tightly with both hands for fear of it slipping from his trembling hands.

"Gaius, isn't there something you can give him to stop the shakes?" Arthur said as he chewed some bread.

"I'm afraid there is nothing I can prescribe for the shakes. It will go away within time." Gaius replied.

Arthur bit a piece of ham off his fork. His eyes never left Merlin. "Merlin, why have you stopped eating? Are you finished already? You barely touched your plate."

Merlin looked up briefly. "I'm quite full." His glassy eyes met Arthur's for just a second before returning to staring at a spot on the table. He mustn't let Arthur see how much he suffered.

This definitely wasn't like Merlin at all. Arthur was doing all the talking. It was usually Merlin who contributed more to the conversation and Arthur who often reminded Merlin to "shut up". Arthur wanted the old Merlin back, but somehow he knew his wishful thinking wasn't going to happen.

"He's eaten two eggs already. That's more than he's eaten in days. I should say it's an improvement." Gaius said. There was a long awkward period of silence among the threesome. Gaius sipped his tea quietly, Arthur finished up the last of the ham, and Merlin occasionally picked at his food with a fork.

"Is there something I ought to know?" Arthur said, breaking the silence.

"How do you mean, Sire?" Gaius inquired.

"You wouldn't be keeping a secret from me, would you?" Arthur said wistfully. He knew he was taking a chance. Perhaps there really was no secret and that all this suspicion was only in Arthur's head. But there was something in Gaius' voice last night that made him wonder.

"A secret?" Gaius echoed. Merlin raised his eyes to level with Arthur's while looking all the more guilty. "What would suggest such a thing?" The physician gasped.

"I don't know. You both seem too quiet. I thought perhaps you were hiding something." Arthur probed.

"I assure you there is no secret." Gaius said with a nervous laugh. "Truly you misunderstand. Please don't take it personal, Sire. It has been a long couple days and the strains have caught up to us at last." He glanced at Merlin. "And please forgive Merlin's reticence. Although he's recovering, the trauma still haunts him terribly."

Merlin swallowed the growing lump in his throat. Somehow Merlin was not too concerned with Arthur finding out about his magic for a change. Merlin was too way too careful with that. Instead, Merlin was worried about Arthur finding out his much darker secret.

"Very well then." Arthur eyed Gaius skeptically. It was obvious that Gaius was as loyal to Merlin as Merlin was to Arthur. There was no way Arthur could pry any solid information out of Gaius. Whatever he needed to find out, he would have to find out on his own.

"Sire, have some patience. Time heals wounds – both mental and physical ones." Gaius said wisely. Arthur's suspicions and curiosities were still heightened but he had no choice but to set them aside.

"This must be hard for you." Arthur turned to Merlin. His tone had a sympathetic air that caught Merlin off guard. Arthur was not one to feel sorry for anyone, let alone have compassion for his servant. This was ultimately a side of Arthur that Merlin was not used to.

"I'm trying to get over it, Sire. It's just – just the things – I can't forget them." Merlin stammered painfully. He felt the heat of Arthur's eyes burning holes into him. He quickly sought refuge in staring at the spot on the table again.

"Merlin, you will pull together." Arthur offered. He hesitated before speaking again. "Look, I know I haven't exactly been the most pleasant person to deal with and I'm sure there were times that I may have come across as being a little overbearing…but I just want you to know that I consider you a friend and you can come to me for anything."

A slight pause caused Arthur to wonder if his words came out right.

"A _little_ overbearing?" Merlin looked up. A slight mischievous smile crept across his lips. It was the same familiar mischievous smile that Arthur was so used to seeing every day. Arthur relaxed a bit, knowing that he finally broke the ice.

"Alright, perhaps more than a little overbearing." Arthur corrected himself. "But I was doing it for your own good."

"Really." Merlin said, humoring the crowned prince.

"How would you have ever learned so much about management? You know, if you hadn't been thrown head first into the tasks, you would never have gained the extensive knowledge of what it took to be an efficient employee." Arthur was purely making things up at this point.

"Oh, I am just forever grateful, Sire, to be blessed by your sensible guidance and fair teachings. What ever shall I do without your constant direction and supervision? If it wasn't for you, I wouldn't know my hand from my foot." Merlin said in dramatic exaggeration. Arthur saw a tiny spark of spunk return into Merlin's otherwise empty eyes.

"Shut up, Merlin." Arthur said exasperatedly out of habit. He rolled his eyes and broke into a smile. Merlin couldn't help but feel a weird sense of affection in those words spoken by Arthur and offered a weak smile.

Suddenly, a bizarre prickly sensation caused the hairs on Merlin's arms to stand on end. He was pretty sure the feeling had nothing to do with the wound. It was something completely separate, yet it was very familiar. He often got this sensation when something was to happen, usually something of the bad nature. Merlin was told that such feelings were not uncommon with connection to being a warlock. This was the part of being a warlock he didn't like. The feeling was similar to someone getting a bucket of ice water poured down his back. It made his blood run cold. Merlin shook off the eerie feeling and drew the blanket tighter across his shoulders. Arthur noticed the sudden paleness in Merlin's complexion and change in body language.

"Are you cold?" Arthur asked although there was no logical reason for Merlin to be cold. Gaius had the fireplace going at a full load of firewood. The room was as toasty as Prince Arthur's room on a normal winter day.

"I'm fine." Merlin muttered. He failed to realize that Gaius was watching his every move. "Er, just a bit of a chill is all."

"You're still sick, Merlin. There is no need to act brave on it." Arthur said. "You need more food in you. I don't see how you can survive through winter based on the amount you've been eating. It's no wonder you feel cold."

"Really, I'm fine." Merlin insisted.

"I believe a good hearty meal of rabbit stew is on the menu today. Mrs. Mattie makes a fine rabbit stew. I'll put in a request with the court kitchens to bring up a pot in addition to the other necessities." Arthur said while alternating glances between Merlin and Gaius.

"Merlin could use some meat in his diet. Thank you, Sire." Gaius said, speaking on behalf of Merlin. Just as Gaius took to refill Arthur's cup, the door burst open without warning. The sprite of a messenger boy, Froy, stumbled into the room absentmindedly babbling.

"Gaius! Gaius! I don't mean to be a pain 'n the arse so early 'n the morn, I reckon I've searched the whole darn cast'l for the prince. I checked his room. Bed's ain't ev'n bin slept in, Gaius! Ye don't s'ppose he's bin kidnapped, do ye? OH! King Uther shan't be pleased. What shall we – " Bubbly Froy suddenly stopped in mid-sentence when he noticed Gaius, Merlin, and Arthur staring at him.

"OH!" Froy reddened when he realized Arthur was right there. "Sire! I beg your pardon." He took off his wool cap revealing his shaggy rumpled hair. He then bowed deeply, his nose almost touching his knees.

"Come forth, Froy." Arthur said, feigning a harsh tone. The prince actually liked Froy and his quirky personality. Froy, however, always seemed afraid of him or of disappointing him. Arthur found it amusing to humor the pint-sized messenger boy. Froy's boots clomped against the hardwood floor as he walked towards the threesome.

"Sire, I didn't know ye was 'ere. Please accept me 'umble apology." Froy was twisting his cap in his hands.

"I got up early and decided to see how Merlin was doing. Gaius invited me to breakfast. And here I am. Now, what is it you have to tell me?" Arthur demanded.

"I beg pardon." Froy bowed again. "Sire, I have a message from the king. He says to meet him in the dining room in an hour. He did not mention the nature of the meeting, but I paid bett'r 'ttention to his expression this time." Froy seemed pleased with himself that he took Arthur's advice on being more observant.

"Well?" Arthur was curious to hear what Froy had to say.

"King Uther was in good spirits." Froy replied.

"How can you tell?" Arthur asked.

"Because, Sire, he was hummin' a song after he dismissed me. It wasn't very loud, but I heard it."

"Hmm, that _is_ rare. It's not like father to hum, unless he was in a good mood. Are you sure, Froy?" Arthur questioned.

"Aye, very much so." Froy smiled a toothy grin.

"Alright then. I will meet father in the dining room. You may go." Arthur said. Froy bowed and just as he turned to leave, Arthur spoke again. "Froy."

"Aye, Sire." Froy turned around.

"You did fine. Keep up the good work." Arthur said. Froy's grin grew ear to ear at the unexpected praise from the prince. The scatter of freckles on his nose seemed to dance as he smiled.

"Thank you, Sire. Thank you!" Froy said with eyes beaming. He left the room and closed the door behind him.

"That was very nice of you, Arthur, to compliment him like that." Gaius said after a spot of silence.

"Yes, shocking." Merlin said in an unimpressed tone. "I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't heard it myself." He teased, knowing that he was setting himself up to be yelled at.

"Is that your idea of a lame joke, _Mer_ lin?" Arthur retorted in defense when deep in his heart, he was glad to see Merlin's spirit gradually returning.

"No, I was just saying that it's very unusual that you should be so nice to the hired help." Merlin challenged. However, it was true. Something about Arthur had definitely changed.

"Oh shut up, Merlin." Arthur snapped for lack of a better reply. Only upon seeing Merlin wince did Arthur refrain from bickering. He was truly concerned for his friend and didn't think it would be fair to let it go too far.

"Get a lot of rest, Merlin." Arthur advised before leaving. "Your body will heal faster if you rested."

Merlin had something far more important than the healing of his wounds to worry about. The prickly sensation that caused his blood to turn to ice worried him. There was no way of knowing what it meant. He needed to be alert and extra careful now.

**End of Chapter 8**


	9. A Broken Promise

"Merlin, you've been glued to that window sill for an awful long time. What has gotten you so captivated?" Gaius said as he put away the last of the cooking utensils. Merlin sighed and appeared to be lost in thought. He had taken up a chair by the window after breakfast and Arthur had left the room to go about his business. The recovering warlock was dressed in a loose-fitting tan-colored tunic and brown pants. A blanket spread across his shoulders and his head was still swathed with white bandages.

"What's on your mind, boy?" Gaius asked when he didn't get a reply from Merlin.

"Ever wonder how beautiful everything is under a coat of snow? The snow covers up all the flaws of the earth. It makes everything seem so pure and innocent." Merlin said gloomily without turning away from the window. "It's the only time the land looks perfect from every angle. Everything is so serene and new. You don't see the madness or chaos that lies beneath it. The snow buries it all. There is no survival of the fittest. No anguish. No deception. No violence. No suffering. I wish it could always be like this."

"What a statement indeed! It brings me to question if we're even talking about snow at all." Gaius made his way over to Merlin and glanced out the window. He placed a hand on Merlin's shoulder gently. "The snow will melt away and everyone will have to face reality at some point. It's like a masquerade party. Everyone hides behind a mask. But at the end of the night, the masks come off and we see everyone in their true form."

Merlin was hypnotized by the falling snowflakes drifting in whichever way the wind took them. He wished he was that snowflake. He was tired of pretending and always having to be one step ahead of the game. Merlin felt it would be nice to let the wind be his guidance for a change and to allow the wind to decide his fate. He just wanted to be a normal person with normal responsibilities.

"Remember Merlin, there are quite a few people here in Camelot who care about you a great deal. This is a better place because you're in it." Gaius reminded thoughtfully.

"I'm sorry for what I said last night." Merlin mumbled. "I didn't mean it." He sighed, hoping it was convincing enough for Gaius.

"I know you didn't." Gaius replied patiently. "It was only out of desperation."

"I-I was feeling too much." Merlin said. "I still feel…overwhelmed."

"It's so right you should. Need I remind you again, you've stepped into the crossfire between Badon's men. You had a clash with a powerful sorcerer and escaped a ferocious gargoyle. You almost paid with your life – but you survived. Not many have endured what you have endured all in a single day." Gaius said. "If it were me, I certainly would be overwhelmed."

"You keep telling me that I'm the only one who can destroy Blais." Merlin blurted. His voice was cold and empty. "Perhaps you've got it all wrong. Perhaps I'm not the all-powerful warlock that you think I am."

"Merlin, you _are_ more powerful than you are letting on. You doubt yourself."

Merlin's eyes narrowed as his gaze followed the journey of a huge snowflake. "You keep saying I'm so powerful. I don't know what you see that I don't. There are some things that I can do…and many more that I know I can't do. I may have been born with this rare _gift_ but there are limitations." He rambled.

"You've always relied on magic to get you out of tight spots. I don't need to remind you of all the times you've done that." Gaius hinted. "What you see as a basic defense mechanism will eventually become an instrument of influence."

"Magic comes to me as second-nature. I don't have to think too hard to do it. It just happens. I was only able to defeat Nimueh because she got careless and ahead of herself. I'm not so sure Blais would make the same mistakes."

"So, you're saying you just got lucky when Nimueh met her doom." Gaius said.

"Well, I wouldn't exactly put it that way." Merlin retorted. "I only caught her off guard."

"I think you did more than that." Gaius corrected.

"I had to do something. I couldn't just stand by and let her kill you." Merlin stammered. He hated to think that someone had the power to take Gaius away from him.

"Your determination and anger gave you the power to do what you did. You've always had it in you." Gaius said wisely.

Merlin let out a depressed sigh. He remembered a time when it was cool to have the abilities to do things no one else could. His magic was a part of him and made him special. It never dawned on him that his magic would someday be needed to fight evil sorcerers and ruthless witches. It was something young Merlin was not prepared to do. And life suddenly became more complicated with the destiny that he was supposed to fulfill. Running around playing Arthur's guardian angel was not as easy as it seemed. It was a 24 hour job. There were constant threats being made against the crowned prince and well, being Arthur's servant wasn't exactly a piece of cake either. Sure, Merlin had doubts about his power all the time. He didn't always feel powerful. He felt like any normal boy his age. It was only Gaius who had so much faith and often times saw so much in him.

"Perhaps you will get back to bed now? You'll feel better after a nap. Besides, it's time for your medicine." Gaius said. Merlin obeyed and allowed Gaius to help him to bed. He did not complain at the bitterness of the medicine. Instead, he finished the vial in four big gulps.

"Would it be too much to ask you to stay? Well, for a while." Merlin mumbled. His big glassy saucer eyes made him look vulnerable. Gaius realized Merlin had been requesting his presence quite a few times. But he understood Merlin's need to feel safe.

"If it would please you." Gaius replied with a smile.

"Don't think that I'm a baby, just because I want you to stay. I'm not afraid of anything. Well, not afraid of _all_ things…just certain things." Merlin murmured.

"Merlin, I never questioned your courage." Gaius interjected. "You don't need to explain yourself."

Merlin drew the blankets up to his chin. He watched Gaius dart to and from the shelves looking for jars of specific roots and fungi. It was interesting to observe Gaius at work. Gaius was a meticulous person and believed a great deal in science. There was so much knowledge in his head that it often amazed Merlin. Gaius began measuring and array of powders and liquids with a scale then combining the ingredients together. After a while, Merlin's eyes became tired of following the old physician milling around the room. He closed them and drifted off into sleep.

M.M.M.

Merlin innocently slept the day away. Perhaps it was the strong medicine or his weak condition that rendered him into such a deep and long sleep. He didn't wake until much later that night. In fact, he woke to a rather odd sensation. There was something weighing down on him. It wasn't extremely heavy, but it was enough to make a noticeable difference. He didn't remember feeling like this when he initially fell asleep. He concluded that it wasn't a bad feeling. This thing, whatever it was, made him warm and comfortable. Cozy. He inhaled deeply and a soft, furry fiber tickled his nose.

The first thing Merlin noticed when he opened his eyes was the darkness of the room. Light only came from a lantern at the table and the glowing embers of the fireplace. He waited for his eyes to adjust to the light. He was curious to know what was causing the heavy thing that someone had placed on him. Merlin looked down to find an enormous brown and black sable fur throw spread across the top of his usual blanket. It covered nearly the entire area of the bed, making Merlin seem like he was drowning in a sea of blankets. The fur was plush and soft as silk. Not only was it precious to look at, it provided such luxurious warmth. Never had Merlin ever seen or used anything so delicate and expensive in all his life. It was something that kings and queens used not poor servants. He wondered where it came from and what it was doing there.

"Gaius?" Merlin stammered as he emerged from the blankets.

"My dear boy, you are awake finally. We were beginning to worry. It's not like you to miss both lunch and dinner." Gaius said as he moved over to the empty chair by Merlin's bed. He seemed to be in a chipper mood. Merlin tried to stretch but in doing so, strained a tense muscle in his lower back causing him to cry out in pain. Lying in the same position too long would do that to a person.

"Take it easy now. You don't want to make things worse." Gaius coached. "Is it your back? Alright, just relax it." He continued as he massaged Merlin's lower back to get the muscle to loosen up.

"Thank you Gaius. Oh, that really hurts." Merlin breathed a quivering breath. "What time is it? Why is it so dark outside?"

"That's because it's late. Everyone's gone to bed. Don't you realize that you've been asleep since this morning? You gave me quite a fright. I figured you'd be tired, but I didn't expect you to sleep the entire day."

"Really? How odd. Though, I don't find sleep comforting at all. Plagued with the weirdest dreams." Merlin admitted. The one thing that he could always count on was Gaius. He could be completely honest with him and not be judged. He told the old physician just about everything, well, almost everything.

"I'll give you a tonic for it. I've been working on a new herbal blend." Gaius began but only to be interrupted by Merlin.

"There's no escape from these dreams. They're not your typical nightmares. I think something has to happen before they can go away permanently. I've sort of gotten used to them." Merlin interjected. His voice was soft but direct. He was so sure of himself.

"We'll see what we can do." Gaius said, still trying to be optimistic.

"Gaius, where did this come from?" Merlin asked pertaining to the exquisite fur that surrounded him.

"Oh, that. It belongs to Arthur." Gaius answered.

"Figured you could use it," Arthur said from where he sat at the table. He did not look up from the thick book that he was reading.

Merlin turned his head towards the sound of Arthur's voice. He didn't think the prince would be in the room, especially since it was already so late in the evening. But he was glad that he stopped himself before saying anything else that could jeopardize his secret. Merlin wondered why Arthur was spending his free time in the servant's quarters when he could be making himself useful doing some other princely activities. Merlin was surprised and, at the same time, touched to find Arthur spending so much time by his beside. Though, what surprised Merlin even more was that Arthur was reading a book. Arthur was a man of action, not so much the type who would pick up a book on a whim.

"Why?" Merlin asked innocently. Arthur had been extremely generous for the last few days. He may have provided better living conditions and healthier foods but letting the servant use this special blanket was going too far. Merlin felt incredibly guilty sharing in the prince's possessions already and could not ask for more.

"You were sick." Arthur replied, still not lifting his eyes from the page in the book.

"I was sick?" Merlin questioned in surprise.

"I'll say." Arthur said. "You certainly didn't look well to me. Ask Gaius."

"You had a terrible case of the chills and were trembling quite fierce as you slept. No matter how many blankets I put on you or how many logs I threw into the fire, you couldn't stop shaking. So, Arthur brought over his fur throw and it did the trick. You've been sleeping soundly for the last few hours." Gaius explained.

"But – but I feel fine." Merlin said. He tried to remember feeling cold, but his memory drew a blank.

"Of course you feel fine now, you idiot. You've been asleep for the whole day." Arthur taunted. He appeared to be his usual grumpy self.

Feeling a bit dumbfounded at the news and not really in the mood to give Arthur a wise reply, Merlin looked down at blanket and studied the beautiful design on the fur.

"I've never seen this before." Merlin said in awe. "And I'm sure I know what's in your entire closet."

"That's because it's new. It only arrived last week. It was a gift from the Duchess of Camden. I haven't even had the pleasure of using it yet." Arthur said. His voice sounded cold but deep down inside, he was relieved that Merlin was alright.

"Arthur, you really shouldn't have done…" Merlin began but only to be interrupted by Arthur.

"I don't take orders from you last I checked. So you can't tell me what I should and shouldn't do. I make my own decisions and I dare anyone who challenges it." Arthur scolded. His facial features softened. "It's real sable fur, mind you, which means it's very expensive. So you'd better keep it in good condition. I'm going to want it back when you're done borrowing it."

"Don't take it the wrong way. It's just that I'm not used to this special treatment. You are very kind. Er…I dunno what else to say, except thank you, Sire." Merlin stammered. Arthur waved it off as nothing, but a short grin formed on his lips.

"I imagine you should be hungry." Gaius spoke to Merlin. "I've kept a pot of rabbit stew warming over the fire for you."

"Come to think on it, I _am_ a bit hungry." Merlin said.

He swung his legs over the side of the bed and helped himself up. On his way over to the table, he stumbled on his first few steps, losing his balance but steadied his footing shortly. Merlin's faltered steps gave Arthur and Gaius a nervous start. Gaius, who was the closest to Merlin, reached out his hand to help but Merlin had already regained his posture.

"I haven't eaten anything all day. I should be entitled to be a little weak." Merlin explained when he felt the weight of Arthur's curious eyes following him. The color came back to his cheeks after he sat down opposite Arthur at the table. Seeing that the clumsy servant could do no more harm to himself, Gaius devoted his attention to the pot simmering in the hearth, stirring its contents occasionally.

"Seriously _Mer_ lin, you ought to take care." Arthur puffed. His eyes went back to the book that he was reading. "You know Gaius, this is a truly fascinating book. It's a wonder why I hadn't found it earlier." He beamed.

"Oh, I'm glad it is to your liking." Gaius chuckled. "There is a wonderful chapter on the uses of wormwood in the back. It describes the unique qualities and secret remedies that very few know about. Why don't you take it with you and finish it?" He continued enthusiastically like as if they had hit upon some sort of common ground.

"I should like that very much." Arthur replied.

Merlin marveled at the conversation between prince and physician. As far as Merlin was concerned, Arthur did not read books unless there was a need to. For Arthur to rave about a book was new to Merlin. Of course, Merlin hadn't known Arthur forever, but he more or less had a rough image on the prince's likes and dislikes. Arthur liked a good challenging workout with his best knights. He was quite experienced with the mace, but needed a little work on the javelin. The sword was always the weapon of choice. Arthur also enjoyed a quiet game of chess from time to time with his father or sometimes, with Morgana. Merlin couldn't recall a time when Arthur read a book for pleasure. From the looks of the worn binding and yellowing pages, Merlin guessed it to be one of Gaius' really old books.

"What book is that?" Merlin finally asked. Arthur lifted the book so Merlin could see the title. Merlin half expected to see something related to fighting or strategy, but instead it was a medicinal book.

" _One Hundred and One Ways to Cure Ailments Using Exotic Plants and Roots_." Merlin read the gold lettering. He gave Arthur a bemused look.

"You should read this. It's better than the title sounds. There are facts about all sorts of roots that I didn't even know existed. Some of them cure the simplest things like a rash or an ear infection." Arthur said. "There are things in here that could save your life one day."

"It doesn't seem like you to read this sort of thing." Merlin pointed out.

"Indeed not. I didn't expect you to be sleeping for so long. To pass the time, I thought I'd browse through Gaius' book collection. And well, I came across this book." Arthur said as he folded the edge of the page to keep his place.

"You were waiting up for me?" Merlin asked innocently. He was ever so grateful to have a friend in Arthur.

"I was." Arthur admitted in a soft, rather shy tone.

"Something smells divine, Gaius." Merlin said referring to the thick aroma of stew wafting through the room. He was sure Arthur felt relieved when the subject was changed. Arthur was never one to show affection in so many words. The things he did often spoke for his character.

"Here you are." Gaius placed a heaping bowl full of rabbit stew in front of him. "Now Merlin, I expect you to finish every last morsel in this bowl."

Merlin's eyes widened at the scrumptious meal. He was so hungry at the sight of food that he could barely contain himself. Merlin didn't get to eat meat often. Only people of nobility and wealthy status, like kings and queens, had the pleasure of eating meats on a daily basis. Being a peasant, eating any sort of meat was considered a luxury and available only on rare occasions. Vegetables and fish made up most of Merlin's diet.

"I think you'll like it. It's Mrs. Mattie's special recipe." Arthur said while closing the book.

"It's been a while since I had rabbit, well, a long while." Merlin said with spoon in hand. "Would you like some more?"

"I think I'll pass. It's really late and besides, I already had two helpings for dinner myself." Arthur replied. "Come on then, dig in." He added when he saw Merlin staring at him like as if he was waiting for permission from his master to eat.

Merlin grinned and attacked the bowl without hesitation. His face was practically buried in the bowl as he chomped and swallowed greedily. A slightly trembling hand held the spoon tightly as he scooped the contents into his mouth. Arthur watched the hungry servant lick the top and bottom of the spoon clean before taking up the next spoonful. He'd never seen Merlin like this before. It was a big difference from earlier that morning when Merlin could barely finish a slice of ham. Merlin was so distracted by the stew that he didn't realize Arthur was staring at him.

"Merlin, slow it down. For Heaven's sake, you're lapping it up like a dog." Arthur said. Merlin looked up and wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his shirt. "There's more stew in the pot, you know. In fact, even if you finished the entire pot at one sitting, I can get you more from the kitchen. Just take it easy."

"Arthur is right. Chew the food." Gaius said and took a seat next to the young warlock.

Merlin's wide eyes followed the small basket filled with white bread that Gaius placed on the table. Only the upper class and nobility had the privilege of white bread. People of the lower classes made do with rye or coarse barley bread. Merlin had seen white bread served at banquets and in many of Arthur's lunches. Though he can't remember a time when he actually tasted it himself. It never occurred to him that Gaius fed him white bread only a few days ago, but he was too delirious at the time to realize it. Merlin wondered if the bread was his for the taking.

"Go ahead, Merlin. The bread is not sitting there for display. It's meant to be eaten." Arthur said.

Merlin reached for a wedge of bread. He didn't think the small tremors in his hand were noticeable, but Arthur missed nothing. When Merlin realized Arthur was staring at his hands, he quickly made himself busy, hoping Arthur would look somewhere else. Merlin acted like nothing was out of the ordinary.

"Mmm, this is so good." Merlin commented with a mouthful of bread.

"Really? It just seemed average to me." Arthur replied.

"That's because you eat this often. It's not every day I get white bread." Merlin said. "It's the most delicious thing I've ever tasted."

Arthur gave Merlin a quizzical glance. He thought it strange that Merlin should thoroughly enjoy bread so much. It was just bread after all. But perhaps this was one of the things Arthur took for granted. He had this same old "average" bread every day. He never realized how fortunate he was to have white bread. There are people out there who've never even tasted it.

"Have some more." Arthur pushed the basket of bread closer to Merlin, encouraging his servant to take as much as he pleased.

"I will. Thanks, my Lord." Merlin dipped his head slightly. Merlin used the bread to soak up the sauce of the stew before putting it into his mouth. Arthur thought it was an interesting method of eating. Gaius occupied himself with a knife and sack of ginger root at the table. The old physician was always busy with something. Medicines needed to be prepared and stocked on a daily basis for any kind of ailment. Soon, the spicy scent of freshly peeled ginger filled the air.

When Merlin finally reached the bottom of the bowl, he licked his fingers clean. Gaius asked him if he wanted more, but Merlin declined. The portion was more than he ever had in one night. It was the tastiest meal he had in a long time. No offense to Gaius, who could manage to throw a few ingredients together to make vegetable soup and grill a trout to perfection. Gaius' strength was, of course, in medicines not the kitchen. So naturally, Merlin had to eat whatever was sent forth on the table.

"And tomorrow's dinner is going to be braised lamb." Arthur said with a merry ring in his tone. "The kitchen messengers will deliver some to you in the evening."

"That sounds wonderful but I'm fine with what I have. The rabbit stew was the best I've had in years. There is still so much left – enough to feed five people at least. I can't let it all go to waste. Gaius and I'll eat it for tomorrow's supper. It's good enough." Merlin said humbly.

"No." Arthur replied nonchalantly. He didn't feel like he, being the prince, needed to explain any further.

"I beg your pardon?" Merlin asked.

"Are you deaf? I said no. Gaius said needed protein in your diet. There really is no sense in arguing with me. Whatever I say, goes. It doesn't matter what you think." Arthur said. "Look Merlin, I know I haven't exactly been the most pleasant person to be around. I may have been pretentious."

"And a prat." Merlin added with a mischievous grin.

"Don't push it." Arthur warned. "You're a good servant, Merlin, despite your clumsiness and tendency to be tardy….and often experience problems following my orders, never do as you're told, and always giving your opinion when I didn't ask for it…." He stopped suddenly when he realized he was babbling. "The point is, even with all your flaws, I'm glad to have you as….as a friend."

"Oh." Merlin said, semi-surprised. "Well, it's likewise….flawed as we are." He added with a humorous grin.

"Er, you more so than me." Arthur said, always having the last word. And the boys burst out into laughter.

Gaius couldn't help but smile at the boys being boys. He liked hearing laughter in the room. It's been a while since he heard that comforting sound. Satisfied, he continued peeling ginger root in silence. Thereafter, the conversation between prince and servant turned into conversation between friend and friend. Arthur told Merlin about Morgana and Gwen dropping by earlier that evening. They stayed for about an hour and Gwen left some flowers, which were now in a clay vase by the window, and that Morgana helped change Merlin's bandages again. As Arthur told Merlin this, the young warlock blushed deeply. Merlin asked about the status between Badon and Uther. Arthur replied that a peace talk was very much in the works and that a war would be averted. Arthur's cheerfulness suddenly dissolved. Something was troubling the fair-haired prince and Merlin read it. Before Merlin could inquire, Arthur spoke.

"Merlin, I must go to Gorgon." Arthur revealed.

"Gorgon? But to get there, you have to go through…" Merlin's heartbeat hammered against his chest and a sudden chill ran down his spine.

"The Kayas." Arthur finished Merlin's sentence. At this moment, even Gaius stopped what he was doing and looked up.

"No Arthur. You mustn't go there. The dreams were very specific. You can't go there." Merlin cried.

"I don't have a choice. Father has sent me. I am to meet with King Cassius of Gorgon and give him a letter that father has written." Arthur explained.

"A letter? Why couldn't he send a messenger? Isn't that whole point of a messenger – is to deliver a message? You're a prince. Princes don't deliver messages." Merlin's voice squeaked.

"You don't understand. It has to be me. Before Badon wagered war against us, King Cassius came to Camelot for a visit. You might remember him – he's the tall fellow with the mustache that curled up at the ends." Arthur said. Merlin nodded.

"Father and Cassius are allies. They knew about Badon's capricious behavior towards union and peace. And that a conflict would sooner or later erupt. Father made a secret pact with Cassius that if it came to war, Camelot and Gorgon would unite. Badon employed a group of spies to get inside information. We've already caught and executed a dozen of them. We think we've got all of them but no one can be sure." Arthur told. He couldn't believe he was telling Merlin the secrets of the high court.

"Badon doesn't know anything about Cassius' intention to team with us. And we preferred it kept that way. We had to be extremely diligent in our communications with Cassius, for fear of the plan being compromised. We smuggled our correspondence with the trade, but the trade wagon only entered Gorgon once every two weeks. Meanwhile, Cassius prepared his army and as soon as we sent word that a war is on, they would attack Badon from the North." Arthur continued. Merlin listened intently.

"Messengers between Camelot and Gorgon could not be trusted. If our letters fell into the wrong hands, let's just say, it would not be a good thing. Father decided that if he had any immediate news to relay, I would be sent to deliver the message in person. It's the only way to ensure there are no spies. The last trade wagon left five days ago. Father could not wait another two weeks for the next trade wagon. And so, I must go."

"Arthur, there must be another way." Merlin pleaded. "You will be killed in The Kayas. I'll go. Let me take your place! I can be trusted to deliver the message."

"Don't be absurd. Father is very strict about these orders. I am to go alone. It's the only way I can make it there without being noticed. It would draw too much attention if I went with an entourage."

"I beg you, Arthur. Do not go. Blais has something terrible in store for you. You have to believe me. You promised me you would not go there." There were tears in the back of Merlin's eyes.

"Don't worry! I'll be fine." Arthur said confidently. "Llamrei is a fast mare. She's as swift as the wind and will bring me back to Camelot in record time."

"Sire, you might want to rethink this journey." Gaius said.

"Perhaps you're overreacting. Maybe the dreams were just dreams." Arthur faced Merlin. "You've been through a great deal, Merlin. It wouldn't be so unusual for you to have nightmares as a result of the trauma, would it?"

"It sounds crazy but I know what's real. I've never felt so strongly about anything before." Merlin said in defense. "You can't go there."

"Don't you think I want to believe you? Picture yourself in my position. I can't go to father and tell him that I won't be going to Gorgon because my servant had a dream that I'll be killed when I pass through The Kayas. Do you know how ridiculous that sounds? If The Kayas won't kill me first, _my father_ will." Arthur raised his voice.

"When do you have to leave?" Merlin asked.

"The day after tomorrow." Arthur replied, feeling torn.

He trusted Merlin with his life, but he had to admit that there were doubts about the warning that came in Merlin's dream. On one hand, it spooked him to see how hysterical and sure Merlin was about this thing in particular. And on the other hand, it was far-fetched. Merlin was just an ordinary boy, nothing but a lowly servant. Why should any important premonitions come to him?

"I'll go with you." Merlin insisted firmly. "If you must go, at least you won't be alone. Besides, I don't think it's breaking the rules. There is nothing abnormal about a prince traveling with the aide of his servant. I'm sure King Cassius won't think it suspicious."

"No you won't. Look at you Merlin. You can barely stand on your feet. You're in no condition to travel. Even if you were, I wouldn't let you go. Have you forgotten about the amulet?" Arthur said.

"There is that." Gaius pointed out.

"I don't care!" Merlin blurted. He was getting flustered.

"But I DO!" Arthur hollered back and pounded a fist upon the table. He could hardly believe what just came out of his mouth. Did he actually admit out loud that he cared about Merlin? Merlin stared at Arthur with cold, hard eyes, trying desperately to hold back tears.

"The only thing keeping that gargoyle away from you is the amulet. As long as you stay within Camelot limits, you are under the protection of the amulet. Once out of Camelot, the gargoyle will come after you the first chance it gets. I – I can't let that happen. You can't leave Camelot." Arthur said.

"My life is only a small price to pay for the future of Camelot. It's my duty to keep you safe."

"I don't need saving from anything. I'm a champion swordsman, mind you. Nothing can get past me. 'Sides, how would _you_ protect _me_? You don't even know the first thing on holding a sword. You'll just get in the way… _if_ a fight should erupt." The prince taunted.

"You don't understand." Merlin shook his head.

_I may not be handy with a sword or any other weapon, but there are ways that I can keep harm from touching you. You don't know what I'm capable of. If only I could tell you my secret._ Merlin thought miserably.

Gaius wanted to intervene and convince Arthur that going to Gorgon was a bad idea. But he understood the reasoning behind it. Arthur couldn't go to Uther and tell him the real reason for refusing to make the trip. Gaius felt the only way Arthur could be safe was if Merlin accompanied him. But that would mean Merlin stepping out of Camelot and into the claws of the ferocious gargoyle, which Merlin may or may not be able to defeat in his current condition. He was in no shape for battle.

Gaius needed more time to find a way to reverse the spell. It would be close to impossible to filter out a vast amount of information in just one day. He believed every word Merlin said about the dreams. But this was only because he knew Merlin's secret. Arthur was walking into some sort of danger and there was nothing to be done. The selfish side of Gaius wanted Merlin to stay in Camelot and be protected by the amulet. He loved Merlin and wanted him clear of harm's way.

"You are not coming with me. And that's an order. I will have no more arguments on this." Arthur demanded. "Gaius, Merlin will not leave Camelot under any circumstance. Put him under lock and key if you have to."

"As you wish, Sire." Gaius obeyed but he knew Merlin could not be kept under lock and key. Merlin was Merlin. Nothing could bind him.

"Do I make myself clear, Merlin?" Arthur asked.

"Yes, Sire." Merlin replied softly, but he had his mind made up.

Merlin was not one to sit by and obediently listen to orders when he felt so strongly about something, at least not this time. The future of Camelot relied on Arthur, who would become the once and future king. Merlin may not see the whole picture as clearly as he would've liked to, but he knew he had an important job. It was not only to play the part of humble servant, but it was also his destiny to make sure Arthur lived to claim the throne. They needed each other for survival. Merlin was already in the process of brainstorming a plan to follow Arthur.

_Two sides of the same coin_. Merlin was beginning to understand the meaning of those words.

**End of Chapter 9**


	10. Follow The Leader

**Two Days Later…**

He was aware of the cloaked horseman shadowing him since the passage into the Allerian woodlands. Even with the haunting cries of forest creatures throwing him off, he was able to calculate the distance between him and the horseman. He knew what to listen for – the snap of a twig, a scuff of a hoof, a rustle of leaves, a disturbance of the soil. Hunting was his favorite past time, even as a boy. It cleared his mind and sharpened his senses. Being one with nature forced him to pay extra close attention to his surroundings. All those lessons his father taught him on tracking prepared him. Whether it was deer, boar, duck, or rabbit, he always returned with a prize worthy of admiration by everyone. His skills grew as he aged and he stood at the top of his game.

There would be a right time to confront his assailant, but now would not be that time. Arthur had to be patient and give as much leeway as possible to allow the prey to believe it was in no apparent danger. Unsuspecting and off guard, only then would he strike. He will get his chance. Somehow, he thought it peculiar how the horseman showed no intentions of causing harm. When Arthur idled on his horse, the cloaked figure idled on his horse. When Arthur galloped, the cloaked figure galloped. When he trotted, the cloaked figure also fell to a trot. It was like as if he remained at a comfortable distance. This mimicking continued for a while as Arthur tried to figure the horseman's plan. Arthur ruled out robbery, as bandits usually travelled in packs. As far as he could tell, he only detected one man following him. He was led to believe that this unknown horseman could very well be a spy. Arthur had no choice but to allow the horseman to follow him, at least until nightfall when he had a greater advantage.

The heavy foliage of the Allerian woodlands made for a great hiding place. One could easily hide there for days without being found or one could just as easily get lost in it if not careful. Not only was Arthur a champion swordsman and skilled hunter, he also excelled in mapping out land. He knew every acre of Camelot, as well as all the surrounding land it in all directions. Being a prince and knight, he had journeyed on countless quests to lands far and wide. There were very few places that Arthur didn't know. The prince remembered a younger self when he and his father used to spend time perusing the elaborate maps in the library together. They could get lost in those maps for hours, talking about the histories and people that lived in each province. King Uther had so much information to share and young Arthur absorbed it all like a sponge. And as a special treat, if King Uther was in an exceptionally good mood, he would order Galith, the old map maker, to construct a new detailed map of any place young Arthur desired. This excited the young prince and it would be the subject of talk for the next several days. But as Arthur grew older, he received less attention from Uther. It wasn't that he didn't care about his son, but things, perhaps duties, got in the way.

As the sunlight began to withdraw from the sky, Arthur decided to make camp. He listened carefully for the movements of the mysterious horseman. He proceeded to build a fire and unpack his blanket, all the while giving no indications that he was aware of his company. Arthur fed and watered his horse. He then made it appear as though he was going to gather more firewood. He left all his possessions and only took his trusty sword with him. The trap was set.

Arthur made no noise as he circled around the shrubbery secluding his camp. With sword in hand and adrenaline rushing in his veins, he watched and waited. Just as he predicted, the horseman eventually made his appearance. With identity still concealed, the man walked carefully over to the fire. He stood there and studied the area. He turned his head left and right, like as if looking for someone.

With sword drawn out, Arthur crept towards the assailant from behind. He was extra careful not to make any sound that would give away his position. It was like sneaking upon a deer. His footsteps had to be light and breathing must be steady. Any sudden movement would render the prey suspicious and dash away. There was an unusual rush that Arthur felt when he was about to gain a triumph. He felt it then. As soon as he was close enough, he pressed the tip of the sword against the shoulder blade of the hooded figure.

"Who are you? Why do you follow me? Give me one good reason not kill you on the spot." Arthur's demanding voice growled. Startled, the cloaked figure jerked slightly. He was about to turn around. "Easy, fellow. I'm warning you." Arthur threatened, eyeing him carefully and making every precaution for sudden attempt to strike.

The hooded figure turned around slowly, showing no intentions of violence. Long spindly fingers immerged from the cloak and reached up to pull the hood back. By the glowing light of the fire, Arthur recognized the face immediately.

"Merlin?" Arthur lowered his weapon. He couldn't believe it was Merlin following him all this time. Shock and a bit of anger stirred in Arthur. On the one hand, he was glad and very much relieved that it was only Merlin trailing him. Matters could've been worse. Yet on the other hand, he was quite furious that Merlin put himself in danger by leaving Camelot.

"I thought you could use some company?" Merlin said sheepishly in a semi-comical sort of way.

"What are you doing here? I gave you strict orders not to leave Camelot."

"I'm sorry Arthur, but I can't let you do this alone." Merlin stammered.

"This is just great. Not only do I have to look out for myself, now I've got to look out for you too. Thanks for making my job so much harder, Merlin. You know what the problem is? You never do as you're told." Arthur rambled as he slid his sword into the sheath and stomped passed Merlin in a huff. "Well, are you going to just stand there like an idiot or are you going to make yourself useful?" The prince spewed.

"Yes, Sire." Merlin sprang into action. He retrieved his saddle bag and made his way to the fire.

Merlin prepared the meal in silence as Arthur sharpened his sword. Arthur couldn't help but steal a concerned glance at Merlin every now and then. He could see that Merlin was still healing based on the lethargic movement and a very slight tremor in the hands. Arthur had been riding most of the day without so much as a good lengthy break. He knew how to prolong the trip without tiring out his horse. Unlike Merlin, Arthur was used to riding. No matter how he pushed forward, his servant relentlessly followed. For someone in Merlin's condition, it would've been a struggle to keep up and probably succumbed to exhaustion within a few hours. Merlin's weariness showed though he refused to complain. Arthur was impressed with his servant's integrity and loyalty.

Arthur was partial about Merlin's presence. He felt it was an unwise decision on Merlin's part to disobey orders and set out on his own. But part of Arthur felt a sense of relief with Merlin by his side again. He usually never went on quests without the clumsy servant to keep him bemused and entertained. Merlin was hardly the type who would do as he was told. He may only be classed as a lowly servant, but to Arthur, there were moments when Merlin's words held such wisdom and logic that made it hard to ignore.

However, the dreams that plagued Merlin were most peculiar to Arthur. He questioned it and wondered if he should be worried at all. It wouldn't be unusual for the dreams to be a result of some trauma that Merlin was experiencing. But on the contrary, it really wasn't like Merlin to make such a big deal about this one particular thing if it wasn't important. There must be a reason why he felt so strongly about it. Besides, it wouldn't hurt Arthur to take at least a bit of precaution.

Inexorable and adamant, Merlin reminded Arthur of some weak dog that had been kicked to the side of the road one too many times. He could be kicked down over and over again, but he always got up. Merlin took the blows as they came and he did it because he felt he had to. Arthur knew it. Though, it surprised him how persistent Merlin can be when he was fighting for something he so whole-heartedly believed in. Arthur wanted to believe that Merlin was a fighter and in a way, he was. But to be honest, Merlin hardly looked the part. He was scrawny and weak in physical appearance. There was nothing threatening about him.

There was only the look of determination in Merlin's river blue eyes to make Arthur understand his need for justice. It was both foolishly daunting yet incredibly courageous at the same time. Merlin didn't let his shortcomings bother him. His heart was in it, and that was all that mattered. This was Merlin's character and no one could do anything to change it. Through the light of the fire, Arthur saw Merlin's willowy frame scurrying about with the plates and food, paying no attention to how possibly sick he may have been.

There was indeed something different about the way Merlin looked. The twine of bandages had been removed from Merlin's head revealing a head of tousled black hair in a state of disarray. Arthur noticed a small tuff of hair missing on the side of Merlin's head where the blow had occurred, making the pink stitches in Merlin's scalp visible. Arthur's eyes travelled down passed the silly neckerchief to mid-torso. Even with Merlin wearing a baggy tunic and jacket, Arthur could see a slight bulk of bandages wrapped around the servant's stomach.

"I ought to send you back…" Arthur said, breaking the silence. But they both knew that was not going to happen. They've made quite a distance from Camelot already and too late to turn back. Besides, it would be pretty heartless to order Merlin to turn around and go back by himself with the possibility of running into trouble with the gargoyle. If Merlin made it this far without the protection of The Amulet of Avalon, perhaps all that was said about the mark on his head was wrong. Nevertheless, Arthur couldn't take any chances. No, he was not going to send Merlin back and somehow, Merlin knew it. There was a reason why Merlin chose now to reveal himself.

"I know the risks and I'm not afraid." Merlin said boldly.

"Merlin, this isn't a joke. You are seriously putting your life in danger. There is a gargoyle somewhere out there just waiting for a chance to kill you."

Merlin couldn't think of a witty remark. He, of all people, knew the risk. There were so many things he wished he could tell Arthur – so many things that he should know. Merlin wanted to tell Arthur he was more than just a lowly servant. He was a lowly servant who possessed powerful magic. He often fantasized different scenarios on how Arthur would react when he found out the news. Merlin liked to think Arthur would be impressed and perhaps gain a little respect in the process. Of course, that would be asking for too much. In the end, the only thing that Merlin ever wanted was Arthur's acceptance. He hoped that Arthur would show mercy and spare him the death penalty. Arthur had always possessed fair and just character, but something like this was way out of the jousting range and Arthur's reaction might in fact not be what Merlin expected. But Merlin wondered if Arthur was even capable of condemning him to death just because he was a little different than everyone else. After all, they were friends now.

Merlin's secret was overwhelming sometimes. He often wondered if his life would be any different had he been a normal person. Perhaps life would've been so much easier without the constant worrying about being found out. But magic defined who he was and to pretend to be someone else wouldn't be right. Perhaps had it not been for magic, his path would've never brought him to Camelot. If he'd been normal, he never would've had the chance to be with Gaius, never would've learned all the things he had, never been exposed to the world outside Ealdor, and more importantly – never would've met Arthur. Being born with such a rare gift did have its advantages, especially when it came to self-defense. Possessing magical abilities did not categorize Merlin as a monster. He was a human being and should not be judged by his innate talent for magic. Like most people, he only wanted to be understood, be accepted, and belonged. He wanted everyone to know that not all people with magic wished to cause harm. Merlin never deliberately used magic to hurt others. The only time when he did so was when he was forced to.

Trying to fulfill his destiny was a pretty demanding job for Merlin in addition to everything else that was expected of him. There were many days when things got so bad that he just wanted to give up and just run as far away from Camelot as possible. Some days, he suffered the weight of Arthur's unreasonable demands. Other days, he just couldn't cope with the hefty responsibility of defeating all sorcerers, witches, and other magical beings that threatened the life of the prince. Merlin often felt like he was the rope in a tug-of-war, ready to snap at any moment. But in the end, something always made him oversee the adversities and stick around. Sure, they fought over opinions and trivial things, but when it came down to the line, Arthur would risk his life for him. And for Arthur to do such a thing for a lowly servant, Merlin was touched. Arthur hardly showed his softer side, but somehow, Merlin saw it.

"Unbelievable." Arthur muttered erratically under his breath. He sighed. "You are truly a brave idiot, do you know that?"

"You don't have to face everything alone." Merlin said, trying so hard not to sound too much of a hypocrite. He was all too familiar with the "facing alone" part of it. No one could possible know what that was like, except maybe Gaius. "You have me."

"Oh and what would you do?" Arthur retorted nonchalantly. "You're a servant. You don't know the first thing about battle. Let's face it, Merlin. I've seen you with a sword and you're not very good. Then again, you're not very good with any weapon ever made for that matter."

"I have…er… other talents." Merlin said in defense. "Don't undermine me. You never know what a person may be capable of. If he has ambition and determination, he will persevere. As Gaius always says, don't judge a book by its cover. I know I'm not big and strong like the way a warrior should look…and – and I may not be swift with a sword or adept in combat but I'll - I'll do whatever it takes – whatever it takes to keep you safe. I'm not completely useless."

Merlin spoke with such pride and conviction that Arthur felt a slight twang of regret in belittling Merlin so quickly. There were no signs of reluctance or hesitations in the servant's tone. The exhaustion was starting to make Merlin a little wound up, but he meant every word. There was nothing he wouldn't give to fulfill the destiny that his life was set out to meet. Credit had to be given to Merlin for such a noble act of sacrificing what could be his life, just to be alongside Arthur. As a result from the fatigue, hurt feelings, and whatever else that ailed his body, Merlin looked like he was about ready to burst into tears.

"You're not useless." Arthur uttered. "If anything, Merlin, you're definitely not that. You have a great deal of courage or you would not have come after me. I – I just don't want you to get hurt. You're the only servant I have and well…I almost lost you once, I can't afford to lose you again."

The sudden use of affectionate words hit Merlin like a jug of hard ale. He was sure his ears were not deceiving him. It was rare and odd for Arthur, or as Merlin believed him to be - the definition of prat-ism, to be so non-self-absorbed and complimentary. All Merlin could do was sit there and blink at Arthur with a look of awe. Besides, he'd spent all day trekking the woods following someone who didn't want to be followed. It wasn't easy tailing Arthur, who was just as skilled a rider as he was a swordsman. Going on nonstop with little food or even water all day made Merlin extra edgy. He knew he couldn't stop. To stop would mean to give up and giving up was something Merlin would never do. After all the effort, all he wanted was a little appreciation.

"I'm – I'm sorry to disobey your orders. But – but I just had to do this. I just – just…." Merlin spluttered. Nerves on the verge of being frayed, the plate of food that he held was quivering. Arthur noticed the erratic change in Merlin's behavior.

"Merlin, give that to me." Arthur coaxed and reached out for the plate.

"It's not – not ready. I s-still have the cheese and – and…."

"It doesn't matter. I'll take it. I'll do it myself." Arthur offered. "You look tired."

Merlin refused to give Arthur the half-filled plate. Somehow, he felt it was still his job to serve the prince regardless of how tired and awful he felt. Arthur could see the tedious journey starting to take its toll on the loyal servant. He realized that Merlin was only trying to help and that perhaps he should give him a little slack. Besides, no servant on the face of the planet would do what Merlin had done. Merlin may be a clumsy idiot of a servant but his heart was in the right place.

"If we're going to do this together, you're going to have to cooperate and listen to me. We're a team and we need to help each other. Right now, you need to give me that plate." Arthur convinced. Merlin reluctantly allowed Arthur to pry the plate from his hands.

With that, Merlin began fixing up his own plate. He devoured his food ravenously within a few short minutes. Arthur watched Merlin in silence as both amazement and concern swept over him. Merlin looked disheveled and jumpy – very different from the wisecracking, cheeky manservant that often seemed a little too cheerful for Arthur's taste. Suddenly, Merlin caught Arthur's stare. Avoiding Merlin's gaze, Arthur turned to his plate for the first time and studied the food on it.

"Wait a minute! Is that sausage?" Arthur exclaimed as he took a closer look at the hearty medallion shaped pieces of dried seasoned meat on the plate nearly covered by the bread and a generous spoon of saucy beans.

"Yes. Gaius had stowed away a few of them in the pantry. I think he was saving it for a special occasion. I don't think he would mind." Merlin said with a shrug.

Arthur was quite happy that his dinner suddenly became more appetizing. Whenever he went on quests and missions, it was Merlin who gathered provisions, thought out what tools and utensils would be needed, as well as what type of clothing to bring – basically, all the logistics. Arthur's only job was getting them safely from point A to point B and back. Strategizing was his strength and he almost always had a foolproof plan, as well as an alternate plan just in case. He may have known his exact navigation for this particular trip, but he hadn't thought much about anything else. Without Merlin's part of the preparation, he only packed the usual basics of bread, cheese, a small sack of beans for a protein stew and some fruit. He hadn't thought of herbs or spices or even a meat jerky that would not spoil for days. Arthur suddenly realized the importance of Merlin's role in preparing for a journey.

"And you were going to eat this all by yourself?" Arthur probed.

"I knew I'd run into you when you made camp, so I brought extra rations." Merlin replied.

"You planned this pretty well, knowing that I can't send you back."

"It wasn't that hard." Merlin said as he took up an apple and sank his teeth into its crunchy flesh.

"Well, I'm glad you're here." Arthur said after a moment.

"I'm glad I'm here too. Otherwise you'd starve." Merlin tried to be funny. After a stomach filled with food, his spunkiness was starting to return.

The remark was a cue for Arthur to say something belligerent in defense, as he always had to have the last word. But to Merlin's surprise, Arthur did not take the bait. The prince seemed to let go a perfect opportunity for insulting his manservant, which was extremely rare. Somehow, Arthur didn't think Merlin deserved a nasty insult at that point. It was because of Merlin that he was able to have a good meal. It was because of Merlin that he had company on the cold, lonesome journey. It was because of Merlin's periodically wise statements that made him believe in himself. It was because Merlin cared enough to be honest.

"Gaius must not have taken it too well, knowing the circumstances of you leaving Camelot." Arthur said while forking food into his mouth and chewing it hungrily. He eyed a shifty Merlin. "He does know that you're here, doesn't he?" The prince questioned slowly. Seeing Merlin's body language and avoidance of eye contact, allowed Arthur to see the truth. "He doesn't know you're here. You didn't tell him! How could you not tell him?" His tone hardened.

"Well, it's not like he doesn't know. I told him…just not in so many words. I left him a note." Merlin explained.

"A note. Why does that not surprise me? Only _you_ would do something like that. You should've said something to Gaius at least. He'll worry about you." Arthur sighed and shook his head.

"It was the only way. He would never have allowed me to come if I told him face to face. I wrote him a note and sneaked out in the early hours of the morning." Merlin described. "I think he'd understand why I had to do this. Maybe it's better this way. I don't know if I would've had the courage to look him in the eyes and tell him goodbye. It's so much easier when done on paper."

"You make it sound like you're never going to see him again. No one's going to die, Merlin." Arthur corrected with a laugh. "Don't sound so depressed. We'll be fine. You'll get to see Gaius after all this is done. I'll make sure of it."

Merlin really wanted nothing more than to believe in Arthur's optimism. But the disturbing visions that scattered in his dreams were too real and nerve wracking. He couldn't make heads or tails of the images that flashed in his brain. The only thing that he was grateful for was that Blais no longer appeared in any of his dreams. Perhaps Blais was able to force himself into Merlin's subconscious in the beginning because of the young warlock's weakness. He was dying and therefore, susceptible to influence. But as Merlin healed, his powers strengthened and was able to repel forces from entering his consciousness. He may have unknowingly stopped Blais from further intrusion, but the wild images that came to his mind during sleep were overpowering.

"Maybe we shouldn't think too much about it." Merlin said as he finished the apple.

Even though majority of the snow had melted, the air was still blistering cold. The multitude of trees and foliage of the Allerian woodlands were a big help in shielding them from the gusty winds. Arthur and Merlin sat closer to the fire for warmth and ate the remainder of their meal in a sort of strange silence, like as if it was somehow going to be their last meal together. Or perhaps they were so famished from the day's journey that food was the only thing on their minds. Once they were done, Merlin was quite amazed to see Arthur assisting with the clean-up, which Merlin welcomed. Plagued with their own worries and pressures, master and servant exchanged very little conversation. Merlin threw another branch into the fire to keep it going. Lost in his thoughts, he stared into the dancing flames. Arthur must've called his name at least three times before he looked up to meet the furrowed look of concern etched in Arthur's face.

"Are you alright?" Arthur asked. "I mean, since the last few days. I like to think you're better, but you look like hell."

"It's been an extremely long day. Following you wasn't exactly a piece of honey cake. You hardly ever stopped for any reason. And I must admit that I almost lost your trail for a while." Merlin said.

"I knew someone was following me. I just didn't expect it to be you."

"You thought I was a bandit?" Merlin's tone grew curious.

"Well, that or a spy. Would've killed you on the spot." Arthur said valiantly. "So, it was a good thing that you turned out to be neither. But I had to admit that I made it pretty hard to be followed."

A response to the dull spasm of pain caused Merlin to jump up slightly. He covered it up well enough to not draw too much attention to himself. He hoped Arthur didn't notice, but he should've known by now that Arthur noticed everything. He was an observant prince, especially when it came to his servant. Ever since Merlin came back beaten within an inch of his life, Arthur had reason to be concerned. The prince felt enormous guilt that Merlin suffered so much on account of keeping Camelot safe. Merlin may have thought his life was a cheap price to pay but Arthur definitely begged to differ. Arthur would rather have traded his own life rather than allow his servant to take the fall for anything. He hated to admit it, but Merlin was way too important to be treated like a pawn. And because of Merlin's recklessness, Arthur paid better attention to his servant - his responsibility. He noticed Merlin's sudden twitch. Just when he was about to question the young warlock on it, Merlin fished out a tonic. He had taken it from Gaius' medicine shelf.

"It's just something to keep the pain away." Merlin explained when he noticed the inquisitive look on Arthur's face. The warlock took a few big gulps of the liquid before replacing the cork on the vial.

"You know Merlin, I don't say this as much as I should, but I appreciate all that you do for me." Arthur murmured.

"It's nothing. My job, you know." Merlin replied. Two compliments in one day – it would be some sort of world record for Arthur. Merlin couldn't look him in the eye for fear that he would void out the compliments with some rude remark.

"No, it's not nothing. You've gone beyond your call of duty." Arthur reassured with a soft tone.

"I do it because I know you'll be a great king, Arthur. I'll do whatever it takes to make sure you get there."

It may not have been a long speech, but the words were comforting to Arthur. Merlin had so much faith and confidence in Arthur. He was always there to say encouraging words and save him from doubt. To Arthur, Merlin was nothing more than an extremely passive serving boy, who had no training in battle and warfare. There would be very little that Merlin could do to protect or even fight alongside Arthur. Chances are, Merlin would probably get hurt in the crossfire or in worse case - get himself killed doing something foolish. Arthur knew this yet there was not a thing he could do to stop Merlin from following him. There was something fearless about Merlin. The boy was no coward and always stood for what he believed in. Although Merlin had a secret weapon, Arthur saw him as a civilian and felt it was his responsibility to keep Merlin from any harm.

"Well, the day's riding must've tired you out. It's best we get some sleep. Big day ahead tomorrow. We leave at first light." Arthur said.

"Tired is an understatement." Merlin replied as he fluffed out his blanket to cover his body. He reclined and rested his head against his saddlebag. Arthur took his bed across from Merlin and stretched out with hands behind his head. He stared at the smoke colored sky peeking through the bare tree tops.

"Arthur," Merlin said after a brief pause, when all movement had settled. Arthur turned to meet his manservant's gaze. "We'll be fine." The warlock said.

"Yeah, we will." Arthur said with a heavy sigh and returned to staring at the sky. "Merlin, I know how hard it was for you come after me. This was something you didn't have to do, yet you did. No matter what tomorrow brings, I want you to know that I will have your back like the way you've always had mine. I will not let anything happen to you. You told me once that it was an honor serving me. Well, it's certainly been an honor having you….Ha! How do you like that Merlin? I just gave you another compliment. I bet you'll have something to gloat about now." Arthur said with a laugh. He turned to Merlin, expecting to meet a familiar impish grin, but instead, Merlin was fast asleep.

Merlin's sleeping features brought about a rather calm and innocent appearance. Arthur knew how exhausted Merlin must've been to have fallen asleep so deeply and quickly. Merlin was definitely pushing it with all the strenuous activity. His body needed time to recover from the wounds and he was not allowing that to happen. Arthur knew plenty about this sort of thing. He had his share of battle wounds. Injuries came with the territory of being a knight. Arthur knew the perfect remedy for a speedy recovery was rest and proper nourishment. Judging by the looks of things Arthur figured if it came down to chase, Merlin would not be able to run too fast. Whatever happens, he promised never to leave Merlin behind. Arthur tried to make excuses for protecting his servant at all costs. The excuses first revolved around selfish needs, then it turned into Gaius being so attached to Merlin, then turned into how much Gwen would miss Merlin, and eventually, the truth surfaced. Merlin just meant too much to him as a friend. No, he could not let his best friend become a martyr. Drowned in thoughts, Arthur watched Merlin sleep for a while before turning in himself.

The night was deathly still as they slept. This was one of the advantages of the Allerian woodlands. The foliage was so thick and twisted that one didn't hear the night winds howling around it. It was indeed chilly, but the heavy woods sheltered them from extreme cold. Some hours into the night, Arthur's sleep was interrupted by the coldness around him. He noticed the fire had diminished into only a few glowing embers. Arthur got the fire going again and burned a few more sticks. Another noise caught his ears. There were small whimpers coming from Merlin as he slept. Arthur shot a glance at Merlin's direction. The servant was curled up under the blanket and had the top of the blanket drawn up almost over his ears. He gave an occasional troubled whimper that sounded like he was stuck in some nightmare. The words were incoherent and some of the babbling sounded oddly foreign. Arthur thought about waking Merlin, but each time he was about to do something, Merlin stopped whimpering.

Arthur crawled over to Merlin and doubled him up on the blanket using the old cloak. It was pretty obvious that Merlin was feeling the cold after the fire went out, but just too exhausted to wake up and restart it. On an ordinary quest, it was Merlin's job to keep watch and make sure the fire was going nicely enough to allow the prince to sleep comfortably. But seeing how poorly Merlin was fairing, Arthur couldn't expect anything more out of his servant. Merlin's behavior was excusable. And to think that he overheard Merlin saying he wished to die, well, that just hit Arthur in the gut. Raw emotions were not something Arthur was used to showing. He was taught time and time again that he was not allowed to show his feelings because doing so would reveal weakness. But Arthur felt things. Sometimes, he felt them a little too much. After all, he may be a prince but he was a prince with a human heart.

Arthur's life was filled with lots of temporary people. He barely knew the meaning of friendship. The people around him changed so often that he hardly had the opportunity to really know them or get attached to anyone. Majority of his friends were not real friends. Uther often told Arthur who his friends ought to be. And Arthur never felt so alone while surrounded by so many people. It wasn't until he met Merlin that he felt a bond. There was something candid and genuine about Merlin that Arthur couldn't quite put his finger on. Although Merlin often disagreed with Arthur's way of thinking, he always stuck by him. The haunting images of Merlin's bloodied face and blood-stained tattered clothing followed Arthur. Every time he closed his eyes, he could see it as clear as day. It took him a while to realize that the reason why he thought about it so much was because he came so close to losing someone he cared about. And watching Merlin huddled under the blanket, harboring pain and struggling to get a hold of his sanity gave Arthur a sense of remorse. He waited and waited for Merlin to return into a warmer, more peaceful slumber before going to sleep himself.

M.M.M.

The alarm clock in the back of Arthur's brain woke him up as the wintry sky showed first signs of light. He was tired but he knew he must push himself to do what needed to be done. He saw the fire ablaze and tried to create a logical explanation of why it was still going when it should've gone out long ago. Pushing his blanket back and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, he heard a sound. Force of habit made him reach for his sword immediately but withdrew when he recognized the figure that approached him.

"Breakfast, Arthur?" Merlin said with a top-of-the-morning grin. He had in his hand a plate with some bread, fruit, and cheese. He had boiled some water and made a nice warm brew of coffee.

"Merlin! What are you doing up so early?" Arthur asked, taking the plate.

"Is that a trick question?" Merlin retorted. "You said we leave at first light, so here we are."

Arthur studied his servant's face for a short while. Merlin showed no signs of fatigue or pain. If Merlin was concealing anything of the sort, he was hiding it extremely well. He was doing his job servicing the prince in any way he could. This surprised Arthur because he half expected Merlin to be too sick to move, after such a challenging night.

"Everything's already packed and ready. The horses are ready as well. Just have your breakfast and we shall be on our way." Merlin said.

"What about you?" Arthur stammered as he watched Merlin fold the blanket.

"Oh, I already ate." Merlin replied.

"Why didn't you wake me?" Arthur asked while chewing on bread.

"I thought you could use a few more minutes." Merlin said. "Why do you look at me like that?" He asked, surveying the puzzled look on Arthur's face.

"Because I didn't think you would get up so early…and – and be so…efficient."

"Oh so now, I'm _efficient_." Merlin said in an exaggerated tone. "Nice to know someone thinks that."

"I mean, you didn't look so good last night. I thought you were going to sleep in. It just surprised me, that's all." Arthur sipped his coffee.

"I feel fine right now. Must've been the good night's rest." Merlin lied. He had no idea that Arthur knew of his nightmare infused sleep. And Arthur decided not to latch onto it. Merlin had his reasons for not bringing it up and now was perhaps not really the right time to go into it.

"Are you sure?" Arthur asked quizzically.

"Yes, Sire. Never better. Well, it's best we hurry. Otherwise we'll lose time." Merlin advised. He got up and tied the blanket roll to the saddle.

After Arthur finished his breakfast, the twosome headed out on their journey. They rode out of the Allerian woodlands and entered The Kayas. Merlin couldn't help but look apprehensively at the skies for roaming gargoyles every now and then. Arthur noticed his servant's edginess and was one step ahead of the game. There was a reason why he chose the route at the base of the valley instead of out in the open. The tall trees and rock base served as protection against being discovered by the gargoyle. If they travelled close to the mountains, they would less likely be seen.

Much to Merlin and Arthur's surprise, they eventually made it out of The Kayas without any difficulty. It was like as if the threats made unto Merlin and Arthur have somehow fallen through. It puzzled Merlin most of all. He was glad that nothing bad happened to either of them thus far but at the same time, he knew the dreams meant something and that something ought to have happened. It was would not be right to say it was a disappointment, but somehow, Merlin's visions should not be wrong. He couldn't be unhappy about their safety. The weight came off Arthur's shoulders as they entered King Cassius' kingdom. He was even open to a few jokes about a sleeping gargoyle and an idiot sorcerer who was probably on holiday.

The urgent message was delivered promptly into King Cassius' hands shortly after their arrival. There were no elaborate receptions or proper announcements because the visit was not expected. In the castle, the knights lead Arthur and Merlin into the war room, where King Cassius was huddled over a desk scribbling some notes with a quill. Upon Arthur's entrance, King Cassius stood up and greeted him with the utmost respect. He spoke with a deep baritone and displayed a certain grace that royalty often possessed. His figure was tall and thick around the middle, looking very well-fed. The years had been good to him and perhaps so had the wine. Merlin found the king's curly moustache most distracting. It always seemed to twitch each time he spoke. Hospitality was extended to both Arthur and Merlin and a luncheon was insisted. Arthur accepted the invitation, only because he felt that the long journey deserved a small break. Besides, Merlin looked like he could use some proper food.

Merlin was surprised that he was permitted to sit at the royal table. In all his service, he'd never been invited to sit at the table with royalty. His place during a meal was to stand behind Arthur's chair and wait for instruction. The view was certainly different from the table. The service was amazing and efficient. Merlin watched in awe as servants brought in plate after plate of food and set it on the table. Not only did the food look beautifully and artistically arranged on the dish, but they were all piping hot. He noticed the uniforms of the servants were equally beautiful – all decked out in hues of crimson and gold. It was a far cry from what the servants of Camelot wore. And to be served, by servants, was more than Merlin could bear. He never had anyone wait on him in all his life. They stood there like pillars and happened to know exactly when the goblets needed refilling.

It was odd that King Cassius didn't question Arthur's request for Merlin to sit beside him. But then Merlin didn't really understand the laid back relationship Arthur had with Cassius. Apparently, Arthur had spent many a holiday at this castle in his youth. Cassius was like one of those favorite uncles everyone had in the family. Merlin tried to remember his table etiquette as he ate and listened to Arthur and Cassius gossip about King Badon and the peace treaty. After lunch ended, Cassius wrote a short letter for Arthur to bring back to Uther expressing his joy and that a celebration was in order. Cassius made sure the horses were watered and fed. He even ordered a pack of food for Arthur to take with him. Arthur and Merlin thanked Cassius for his kindness and bid farewell.

"That went quite well." Merlin said as they rode out of King Cassius' castle gates.

"Indeed." Arthur said. "Not bad for a fine meal either. One thing I know about Cassius is that he won't let you leave without a full stomach. He likes to feed everyone that visits him until he could feed them no more."

"King Cassius – he's not at all how I imagined. I didn't think he would be so….so…" Merlin searched for the right words.

"Down-to-earth. Approachable. Generous. Relaxed." Arthur finished Merlin's sentence. He laughed. "He's quite the polar opposite of my father."

"Did you see what the servants wore?" Merlin nearly exclaimed. "I've never seen anything so fine – right down to the embroidery on their shoes! And did you see the way they arranged the food on the plates? If you ask me, I'd say there must've been an artist working in the kitchen."

"Oh Merlin." Arthur laughed whole-heartedly at Merlin's babble. "Now, don't start getting all spiritless on me, otherwise I'd suspect you'd want to quit your job and work for Cassius instead. He does have a lot of benefits to offer."

Merlin's face suddenly became serious. "Is that what you think, Arthur? Do you think I can be tempted by a few perks? Servants under Cassius may have nicer clothes, fairer working conditions, better food, and probably more rights. I may not have those things but what I _do_ have is worth a lot more. I get to be there when you become the great once and future king. Camelot will be saved under your reign. Nothing changes the fact that I'm happy to be your servant until the day I die…..Besides, who needs rights anyway. It's so overrated." He shrugged and laughed.

"I'm glad you feel that way because when we get back to Camelot, there will be plenty of armor polishing, mucking out stables, dirty laundry, floor mopping, and a ton of chores lined up for you." Arthur joked. He paused and hesitated before continuing. "I know I haven't exactly been the easiest person to deal with, but I will try to be better. You have my word."

"Well, don't change too much. Prince Arthur wouldn't be Prince Arthur unless he was a prat sometimes." Merlin teased.

"Watch it." Arthur warned. On a normal day, he would be returning the insults, but somehow, he allowed certain things to slide. A talkative Merlin meant a healthier Merlin. He still had a weak and pale overall appearance but the meal really made a difference. If Merlin found the energy to insult Arthur, then it was definitely a good sign.

Prince and servant rode nonstop until they reached the foot of The Kayas. They surveyed the area and braced themselves before entering the place of bad omen. Arthur knew a safe passage would be most desirable. But somehow, he had to be prepared for the worst. He wanted Merlin's bizarre dreams to be just that – bizarre dreams. But his gut feeling told him that there must be a reason why Merlin was haunted by these dreams. As they rode into The Kayas, neither of them said a word. No menial conversations, no jokes, and definitely none of the usual prattle prince and servant shared on quests and hunts. They were both alert and observant of their surroundings. Even the slightest movements – the scurrying of an animal, a flutter of wings, a rustling of leaves in the wind, a squawk of a bird – nothing was overlooked.

Arthur and Merlin trotted forward along the base of the valley. However, Merlin's nerviness didn't go unnoticed. Arthur tried to think of something reassuring to say to the young warlock but his mind drew a blank. The last thing he wanted to do was to jinx everything. Merlin felt very uneasy and had a feeling that something bad was about to happen. He followed Arthur in single file travelling close to the base of the mountains.

Merlin's stomach knotted with nervousness. His heart palpitated so wildly that it started to cause him great discomfort. His breath quickened and the adrenaline rushed in his blood, making him lightheaded. He hid it from Arthur for a while, but Arthur eventually caught Merlin kneading his chest. When asked, Merlin insisted that he was fine and that they needed to keep moving. Arthur kept watch on Merlin through the corner of his eye.

The Kayas was not an eerie place. It was just made eerie by what Merlin's dreams foretold. The steep lush regions gave way to many wildlife and ecosystems, as well as passing streams and floral. Otherwise a beautiful valley of liveliness, surrounded by rocky terrain and mountains bearing caves, the Kayas was anything but a dreary and deathly place. The Kayas was known for its abundance of caves lodged on the side of the mountains. It looked like rows of small black cubby holes from afar. In ancient times, a human race called the Kayaruvians inhabited the caves. They were a peaceful yet primitive sort of people who dressed in deerskin and wore bright colored feathers. They lived off the land and sought shelter in the caves. It was believed that a great fire brought on by sorcerers destroyed everything – land, people, and livestock. Only a handful of the Kayaruvians survived and was forced to abandon their land and live elsewhere. The only thing left now, was a mass of empty caves.

They were more than half way across The Kayas when Merlin spotted something hovering just above the treetops in the distance. The black dot appeared harmless enough for Merlin to dismiss the speck as a raven. He didn't think it important at first. It just seemed like a harmless bird circling the air. Merlin turned his head after a few miles into The Kayas and noticed that black dot was still there in the same spot. As far as Merlin knew, birds didn't fly like that. This particular object was consistent and steady, like as if it had a strong sense of direction. There was cause for some alarm when that black dot in the sky gradually became bigger and bigger as it gained speed.

"Arthur?" Merlin called nervously. Arthur pulled his horse to a stop and turned around to see Merlin staring at the spot in the sky. Arthur looked up to see what had Merlin's attention.

"What _is_ that? Is it some kind of bird?" Arthur squinted. They watched the black dot in the sky for a few seconds before realizing that it wasn't a bird at all. They were soon able to see the shape of the massive span of bat-like wings as it flapped up and down. The creature was far bigger than any bird imaginable.

"It's come for me at last." Merlin said in a surprisingly calm tone. Somehow, he knew it was the gargoyle.

"Let's get outta here before that thing catches up to us!" Arthur exclaimed. "We'll head for the caves. Come on!" He pulled at the reigns of his horse and broke into a gallop. Merlin followed behind as fast as he could.

Arthur and Merlin dismounted their horses when they reached the base of the valley. The horses could only bring them as far as the valley because in order to reach the caves, they had to scale the rock. Arthur and Merlin left their horses by the stream and continued towards safety on foot. They ran towards the direction of the first caves. Merlin, still recovering from the old wounds, tripped several times over rocks or roots. Each time, Arthur circled back and helped Merlin up. There was no telling how much time had passed. But in a matter of seconds, they heard the high-pitched screech of the gargoyle. Being agile and fit, Arthur climbed the rocks ahead of Merlin without too much difficulty. He made it to the first platform when he saw the angry gargoyle approaching at full speed, aiming for Merlin. Merlin was still clawing his way to where Arthur was standing.

"Hurry up!" Arthur hollered as he reached for him. "We have to get into that cave, NOW!"

Merlin plopped onto the platform when Arthur took him by the arm and pulled him up. The gargoyle came at Merlin with talons advancing. And just as was about to sink its sharp claws into the young warlock's flesh, Arthur pulled Merlin into a small cave. The creature hit the side of the mountain with a loud bang, causing some loose rock to crumble. Soil sprinkled on Arthur and Merlin. They watched in awe as the gigantic gargoyle attacked the small opening of the cave. It thrashed against the rock and made attempts to snap its jaws midway through the cave opening. Another crash against the rock shook the very ground.

"Merlin, get back!" Arthur screamed, but Merlin only stood there staring at the gargoyle.

Merlin didn't hear Arthur. He only felt the magic powered by pure adrenaline surge in his veins. It was hot and he felt it coming. The hairs on his arms were starting to tickle. He often felt this way when he was threatened. It was the magic in his body speaking and it wanted so badly to protect him. His eyes were seconds away from turning a fiery gold, but something in his brain suddenly reminded him that Arthur was there and to do this, would mean to expose his true self to Arthur. So many reasons surrounded him on why he couldn't show Arthur who he really was and what he could do, at least not yet and not like this. So, the young warlock closed his eyes and willed the magic to go away.

Arthur snatched him away from the path of the gargoyle with such force that it knocked them both off their feet and tumbled into the corners of the cave. Merlin, being the physically weaker one of the two, felt the brunt of the impact, though he tried not to show it.

**End of Chapter 10**


	11. The Kayas

"It's the only way." Merlin pleaded desperately. The massive gargoyle crashed itself against the cave again causing more soil and debris to crumble, widening the entrance of the cave in the process. It was inching its way towards fulfilling the ultimate goal of terminating Merlin.

"No, Merlin! It's suicide." Arthur shouted firmly.

"Look, it makes sense. It's me that the gargoyle is after. I'm the one that's marked. Not you. It'll follow me. I'll distract it long enough for you to get away."

"And then what? That thing is going to hunt you down and won't stop until you're dead. What part of the word _dead_ don't you understand? It'll kill you." Arthur barked.

"I'll be fine." Merlin sputtered stubbornly. Never did he look so serious and scared at the same time. He stood in front of Arthur, trying to appear as strong as he possibly could. But the fatigue and pain from old injuries made Merlin seem small and vulnerable all the same.

"Gaius said that no one in the history of man has ever survived a gargoyle attack. Do you know how lucky you've been? You can't outsmart the gargoyle again." Arthur scorned. "Another attack like that and you'll be done. The amulet is not here to protect you."

Merlin was no ordinary human. He had the gift of magic and was only able to get away from the gargoyle because of this magic. It wasn't just dumb luck. There were many things he could do to defend himself. He was still new to the whole using-his-magic-to-fight-evil thing and had so much to learn about harnessing and controlling his magic. Merlin never saw his magic as a weapon of force against evil. His magic had always been there to protect him. Growing up in Ealdor, he used magic to do simple things to help out his mother or perhaps to play a good joke on Will. He was often scolded by his mother on the reasons why he should not use magic in public for fear of being caught. Merlin didn't take it too seriously in the beginning and thought his mother was overreacting. But as he grew, the magic became more powerful and intense. It was only a matter of time before the whole village knew what Merlin was capable of. Magic was a dangerous thing to have in such times when it was banned by King Uther. If anyone found out about Merlin, he would be arrested and burned at the stake. Merlin wished he could tell Arthur why he was the only known human to escape the wrath of a gargoyle.

"We _have_ to do something. We know for a fact that it targets only me. You are immune. It doesn't have a purpose for you. Don't you see? You have a chance at making out of this alive." Merlin began. He noticed the resentment in Arthur's eyes. "You're forgetting who you are. You're Prince Arthur Pendragon of Camelot. You need to be alive to claim the throne to Camelot one day. And I'll do whatever it takes to secure your future. If you stay with me, you'll get killed. What good is Camelot if you are not there to be king? I'm begging you, Arthur. Let me do this – for the love of Camelot."

"The answer is still no. I don't care what you have to say." Arthur's voice was full of anguish. A salty lump of tears formed in his throat as he listened to Merlin's courageous rant. He just couldn't bear the thought of Merlin being shred to ribbons by the gargoyle. He couldn't imagine a day without the clumsy idiot shadowing him and being his usual annoying self. Merlin had grown to be something more valuable than a manservant. He was a friend. No, he will not sacrifice his only true friend. "There has to be a way to get out of this situation."

"You can't risk your life for me. I'm just a manservant. Like I always said in the past - a small price to pay for the greater good." Merlin said.

"There you go again with that nonsense. Why do you see yourself so unimportant? I can't – won't – leave you. Whatever happens, we are in this together."

"Arthur, you have to listen to me. I know it sounds crazy, but…" Merlin tried to talk some sense into the prince. Merlin could probably deal with the gargoyle, but on his own terms and most definitely, alone. It was only then that he could use his magic without revealing it to Arthur.

"If you think I'm going to toss you to the vicious beast so you can buy me some time to escape, then you'd better forget it because I will NOT do anything of the sort. This is an order, Merlin. Deal with it." Arthur demanded as he drew out his sword.

Once Arthur's decision was made up, everything was final. Hardly anyone could persuade a tenacious prince with an adamant state of mind. Arthur's stubbornness would get them nowhere. Merlin had to think of some other way of destroying the gargoyle, or at least get it off their backs. It was going to be tricky with Arthur by his side. But if push came to shove and there were no other alternatives, he would have no choice but to use magic in front of Arthur. The gargoyle roared, interrupting prince and manservant in their conversation. Merlin spun around and looked up at the gargoyle. Despite the intimidation, Merlin stood rooted to the spot. Merlin was practically shaking in his boots, but he tried to not let it become too obvious. He would be a liar if he said he wasn't the least bit scared of the beast. Petrified by its enormity, Merlin watched it crash into the cave again. The thud crumbled more rock all around them.

"We have to get out of here. Anymore of this and the cave is going to collapse." Arthur said as he dusted the debris off his head. "Come on, this way." Merlin snapped out of his trance when Arthur gave a pull of his arm.

The narrow tunnel was their only means of escape. Without a torch, they had their hands in front of them, frantically groping blindly at the darkness, hoping they wouldn't run into a dead end. At arm's length were the cold damp walls that they felt with their hands and fingers. The distant echoes of the gargoyle's roar travelled in the tunnel seemed to diminish as they advanced in the passageway. Merlin also noticed a peculiar soft sound of trickling water perhaps somewhere inside the walls. They scuffled and picked up their pace. Arthur led the way and Merlin followed closely behind. The earth under their feet was soft and appeared to cushion their steps, while the smell of oxidation and iron in the soil filled their nostrils.

They travelled quite a distance before coming to a fork in the passage. The opening was much larger than the average size of the tunnel. This space allowed Arthur and Merlin to stand side by side. There in front of them was a dilemma. They could see the grand outline of the entrances to two caves. Arthur knew about the labyrinth of caves and tunnels of The Kayas, but he had never actually wandered in them before. He also had no clue on whether or not any of the tunnels lead to safety. For all he knew, they could be going around in circles. They really needed light.

The air in the cave got colder and colder as they ventured deeper into the twists and turns of the maze. Arthur had on chain mail, which retained some warmth but Merlin, on the other hand, was freezing in his threadbare so-called winter clothing. Merlin could easily create a fire with a simple spell and part of their problem would be solved. But that would mean revealing his magic and he couldn't do that. He'd have to rely on the two rocks that he had in his pocket, which he used for igniting fire the old-fashioned way. A little fire for a bit of warmth would actually be nice.

"What are you doing?" Arthur asked when he heard Merlin moving about.

"I figured if this was any sort of habitation for the Kayaruvians, there should be some sort of wall sconces holding old torches. Even the Kayaruvians must've needed light at the end of a tunnel to see where they were. If only I can find just one, I can light it." Merlin explained as he fumbled about allowing his fingers to feel the grimy walls.

"Good thinking." Arthur said as he joined Merlin in searching the opposite wall for anything that felt like a wall sconce.

Merlin reached for the areas high above his head and he came across a protrusion from the wall. He was able to feel the shape of the sconce. It was a fixture made of wood and appeared to be nailed to the cave's wall. A sticky substance fell upon his hand and fingers as he extended his search further upwards. He dismissed it to be cobwebs or moistened soil. Merlin soon got a hold of the torch that stood cradled in the fixture. His fingers were practically numb from the coldness that even fishing out the two stones from his pocket was a challenge. He dropped to his knees and tried to strike the two stones together for a spark. It was hard enough to keep the circulation of blood going in his fingers. Trying to strike the stones in the dark was nearly impossible. There was a much easier way of doing this and if he did do something soon, they would never get out of the caves. He squinted in the dark to try and locate Arthur. A few scuffles of a boot led Merlin to believe that Arthur was a good distance away from him, still groping the walls for a sign of a torch. Merlin allowed his magic to roll in his veins. His eyes flashed a fiery gold and the word _forbearnan_ escaped his lips. He tried to say it as softly as he could to be out of Arthur's earshot. Suddenly, a puff of orange and yellow flame caught itself onto the tip of the torch. Merlin gave a satisfied smiled. It was so easy. All he did was manipulate the earth's elements – something he was really good at.

Just as quick as he breathed the word and the torch ignited, Arthur asked, "What was that Merlin? Did you say something?"

"Erm…I just said, I found one." Merlin said sheepishly as he stood facing Arthur holding the torch all lit with dancing flames. "I – I used the stones to make a spark."

Arthur could've sworn he heard Merlin saying something entirely different, but he quickly dismissed it when he saw the torch. Seeing the fire was a great comfort to Arthur. Not only did it provide some kind of warmth, it shone like a beacon of hope. The light gave him a sense of new courage and optimism. Arthur took the torch from Merlin and shined the light on the path ahead. The two caves were identical in size. The mouth of the caves reached a good twelve feet in height and both were equally intimidating.

"Which way do we go?" Merlin asked. He was so cold that he could see the breath in front of him as he exhaled.

"Left." Arthur replied.

"Left?" Merlin questioned quizzically. "Why left? Why not the one on the right?"

"Because when in doubt, always choose the one on the left." Arthur answered.

"Who told you that?" Merlin inquired.

"No one. I made it up." Arthur seemed quite proud of himself, but caught the incredulous look on Merlin's face. "Look, this rule has never failed me in the past. I can't be a hundred percent certain it is the right path. But what have we got to lose?"

"Apparently, nothing. Let's go then." Merlin said. He took the lead in walking towards the cave on the left, leaving Arthur standing there with a dumbstruck look on his face. Arthur wanted to set the record straight, yet again, that _he_ was the one who gave the orders – not Merlin – but decided to overlook the minor shift in chain of command. Arthur followed closely behind Merlin.

The cave took them into a few turns and just when it felt like they had been walking forever, they stumbled into a large opening. The first thing that Arthur and Merlin noticed was the beams of sunlight coming through three holes in the wall of the cave, providing better ventilation than that of the other areas. They looked around and scrutinized the large dome shaped room. Almost immediately, they were able to take note of the extremely high ceiling of solid rock. It seemed to go on upwards for miles. There were no furnishings or any signs of its ancient occupants, at least none that Merlin could see right away. Through his eyes, it was just one big empty but amazing cave-room. Arthur walked around, crouched on a corner of the floor, shone the light from the torch here and there, and inspected the whole chamber.

"Hmm, big and spacy. Certainly nicer than the other caves. Is this the master bedroom?" Merlin joked. He didn't mean to sound comical at a time like this. But Merlin always had his way of relieving a stressful situation without meaning to.

"Oh very funny, Merlin." Arthur rolled his eyes. "This was something of a place of worship for the Kayaruvians." Arthur said confidently.

"How do you know?" Merlin asked.

"The triad." Arthur pointed to the three small windows in the wall, which were placed in a triangular pattern. "The triad represents sky, earth and living creatures. Father used to tell me stories about the Kayaruvians and their practices when I was a boy. The three holes you see are placed that way for a reason. During a particular time of the day, the sun's rays will beam through the windows and coincide, hitting a single spot on the opposite wall. When the three rays become one, legend says the Great One will appear but only long enough as the sun's rays holds its beam." He explained and alternated glances between the three holes and the spot on the wall.

"The Great One?" Merlin probed. "Is he some sort of God?"

"The Great One is believed to be a spirit who foretold the future. The Kayaruvians were a superstitious lot and they came here every day to worship the Great One and watch him immerge from the light. They would pile into this room, burn incense, chant and smoke a special pipe. They often waited and waited. Sometimes, the Great One won't appear for days or even weeks, but when he finally does appear, they listened to whatever he had to tell them." Arthur said with skepticism. "I guess he wasn't a very good seer since he failed to give a prediction about the fire that would wipe out their entire race."

"Do you think it's true? I mean that the Great One exists?"

"With the Old and New Religion, I think there are things in this world that aren't explainable - things that should be left alone and not picked apart for the sake of logic. Maybe the Great One really did come to them. Then again maybe the people were smoking something pretty nasty in here, causing them to hallucinate."

"Well, we're about to find out if the myth is true." Merlin pointed at the three beams of light converging into the center of the opposite wall. Arthur stared at the beams of light.

Within a matter of seconds, the three separate beams aligned and became one. A white circle of light made itself visible on the wall. Arthur and Merlin braced themselves for something to happen. They stared at the spot, held their breaths and waited for something miraculous to occur. Arthur began to question the Great One's existence. If he did exist, it would change the whole concept of spiritualism. Meanwhile, Merlin wondered what the Great One looked like – was he young or old, handsome or ugly, fat or skinny. They stood there and watched attentively.

"Nothing's happening. I don't see anything." Merlin said half relieved and half disappointed. It was true, nothing happened, except a really nice and interesting display of sunlight. The Great One chose not appear. "I guess today's not a good day for him to show himself."

"Look Merlin." Arthur interjected. "I don't know why I hadn't noticed it before. Perhaps the Great One is helping us out after all." Still holding the torch in his hands, he walked away from Merlin, taking the light with him.

"What is it?" Merlin followed Arthur curiously.

" _That_ is our way out." Arthur said. Just below the converging beams there stood the small entrance of another passageway at ground level. It was a dark little hole that seemed a bit short for a person to stand at full height. "If it wasn't for that beam of light pointing to it, I would not have noticed it. We have to find a way to ditch the gargoyle and get back to our horses."

"It's found me. It knows I'm here, Arthur. It doesn't matter where I go. I have to face it." Merlin insisted.

Arthur turned and shot an exasperated glance at his manservant. The expression on Merlin's face was one of seriousness. He truly felt that the only way out of this was to fight this gargoyle on his own, something Arthur would never allow. It would be like throwing a piece of meat into a pit of wild and hungry dogs. The gargoyle would tear Merlin apart in a blink of an eye. Arthur felt Merlin stood no chance against a raging beast. He wanted to shoot a smart insult at Merlin for thinking such an asinine idea, but he couldn't bring himself to doing it after seeing how fragile Merlin appeared through the glow of the burning torch. Arthur could tell Merlin was shivering from a combination of fear and cold.

"We've been through this already. You're not going to do anything stupid. I'm not going to let you." Arthur said. "We're going to find a way out of this mess. Now let's move. The longer we stay here, the faster the gargoyle will pick up your scent."

Arthur turned and started for the small cave. With the torch lighting the way, master and servant followed the route that the cave took them. Every now and then, they had to watch their heads because the ceiling was so low. The damp air in the passageway was much thinner, causing Arthur and Merlin to draw deeper breaths as they journeyed forward. The narrow cave led into a series of other caves and passageways. Finally, they entered the last cave. It had a corridor, which extended into a rectangular cave. The darkness was still unnerving but at least they've reached what appeared to be the end of the line. With the only light coming from the torch, it was hard to tell the function of the cave at first glance. All the caves appeared identical after a while. Though this one had strange writing carved onto the walls. As intriguing and curious as it seemed, both Arthur and Merlin knew this was no time to linger around for an archaeology lesson. They needed to find a means of escape.

As they walked further into the cave, they noticed a sparkling glimmer of brightness in the far corner. At first they weren't sure what was causing it but as they ventured closer and closer, they realized it was indeed an exit. Sunlight peeked through the gaps in the snow-covered overgrown moss and winter foliage that hung over the opening. The light was spotty and dim but it was the most comforting sight they've seen in a long time. Arthur extinguished the torch and made a straight path towards the sunlight. He used the pile of rocks as stepping stones to reach the top and quickly pulled out loose rock to make the hole big enough for a person to go through.

For safety reasons, Arthur ordered Merlin to stay put while he took a look outside. He drew his sword and climbed out of the cave. The seconds that Merlin waited felt like hours. He stood there rubbing the sides of his arms with his hands for warmth. He tried to be so brave and fearless, but he was just a human being. There were things that scared him and things that _really_ scared him. He was ever so glad to see Arthur reappear in the opening. Once the coast was clear, the prince signaled Merlin to climb out of the cave. Merlin made it out of the darkness of the cave and had to wait for his eyes to adjust to the brightness of the sun.

"Where are we?" Merlin said after catching his breath. Climbing that bit of rock turned out to be more taxing than he thought. The exercise rendered him weak and tired. He was just not making it very easy for himself to recover from his wounds. But he could barely complain at a time like this. Merlin looked around and tried to figure out their location. The twists and turns in the caves really jumbled his sense of direction. Merlin saw lots of rock and forest.

"We need to go west. Our horses are back at the ravine." Arthur said without a moment's thought. "No sign of the gargoyle. Maybe it's lost your scent when we went into the caves. We'd better get a move on. The sooner we get back to Camelot, the sooner you'll be safe."

Arthur led the way and Merlin followed. Merlin could tell Arthur was one of those people with good direction. Maybe it was the sure fire way that Arthur spoke or perhaps it was in the way he carried himself. Merlin admired Arthur's calmness in times like these. He always seemed to have a plan. If Arthur was feigning his ability to take control of the situation and lead, then he was doing a spotless job of keeping up a poker face. Merlin suspected nothing. But it was only natural because Arthur spent a great deal of time studying maps and going on quests in his lifetime. He had the experience and the knowledge of the woods. He could tell the direction just by looking at the location of the sun.

They travelled in a trench-like passage filled with vines, moss and a confusion of bare trees. It had a sort of ghostly presence that reminded Merlin of The Valley of the Fallen Kings. But he had to admit that taking a stroll through this place was much better than being chased by a gargoyle. The high walls of rock protected and shielded them from being seen. Arthur and Merlin moved quickly with conversation drawn to a minimum. They followed the passage until they reached the end, which opened up to a clearing. The small gap of land separated them from reaching the forest on the other side. They needed to rely on the pine trees for cover.

"We're gonna have to make a run for the trees over there." Arthur said. "Think you can manage?"

"Do I have a choice?" Merlin replied sheepishly. Arthur darted a worried glance at Merlin, whose complexion had gone a tad paler.

"You can do this. On my mark, we run as fast as we can in that direction. Understood?" Arthur instructed and pointed. Merlin gave a nod and hoped to not disappoint Arthur.

Arthur took a few steps out of the cover. He listened carefully for any movement and searched the sky for the gargoyle in all directions. He wondered where the gargoyle had gone to. Not knowing the location of the beast made Arthur nervous. With massive wings like that, it could easily cover ground in an instant. The frosty air bit at Arthur's skin and he could see his breath in front of him as he breathed. He tightened his hand around the hilt of the sword, ready for anything. The area had an odd sense of tranquility that made Arthur uneasy, but at the same time, they couldn't wait forever to make their move. He circled back to where Merlin stood.

"Ready?" Arthur asked. Merlin gave a nod, which Arthur didn't find too convincing but he had to take Merlin's word for it. The distance was wide but he could make a good sprint into the forest without problem, as the prince was fighting fit and on top of his game. It was Merlin that he doubted. If climbing a little rock rendered Merlin out of breath, imagine what a run would do.

Arthur searched the skies one last time for the gargoyle and seeing that it was still clear of present danger, he gave the word. They ran towards the tree line with all their might. Arthur, the healthier of the two, was leading ahead of Merlin by several feet. Even though Merlin wasn't as fast as Arthur, he was doing pretty well in keeping up as they closed the distance between them and the forest. Things were suddenly looking very promising for Arthur and Merlin. Merlin wanted to believe that they were able to outsmart the gargoyle and that the next step in safety was within arm's reach. Was he really going to finally manage a triumph? He suddenly felt a victory coming on. It was so close that he could almost taste it. He was so sure of it. And the thought came as easily as it went when he heard a loud terrifying screech.

" _Oh no, no, no!"_ Merlin thought frantically. He turned his head and found the gargoyle flying after him at full speed. Its wings flapped up and down creating giant dust balls in its path. The massive wings swept closer and closer. Arthur saw the beast heading for them and regretted not seeing it before. But it was hardly his fault because once it caught Merlin's scent, it was bound to come.

"RUN, MERLIN. RUN!" Arthur hollered between labored breaths.

Merlin had no complaints and tried to pick up those knees. He tried to increase his speed, but was tiring and his legs just couldn't go any faster. His lungs didn't have the capacity to make him a champion runner. He was not trained like Arthur had been for speed and agility. Arthur was quick and landed on his feet almost all the time. Merlin was the opposite. He was known to trip over his own feet. Athleticism did not suit him. In fact, he had never been athletic his whole life. There was nothing in the books that could prepare him for running away from a gargoyle. Merlin knew he couldn't go any further. He could almost feel the wind from the gargoyle's wings overhead. Somehow, he knew deep down inside what must be done. He'd known it for some time now and he couldn't ignore it anymore.

Arthur caught sight of Merlin through the corner of his eye. He turned his head and noticed the distance between him and his manservant was considerably far. Something told him Merlin was about to do something extremely stupid. And he was right.

"Merlin! What are you doing?" Arthur shouted while slowing down to Merlin's pace.

"I…can't…run…anymore." Merlin gasped. "There's no point…in both of us getting killed."

Arthur caught the despair in Merlin's voice. "The plan was to run like the devil was after us. You WILL run." Arthur's exasperated and heavy breath tone sounded just as threatening as if he was just standing there spewing orders. Arthur then grabbed the servant by the back of the collar and pulled him up to speed before letting go.

Of course, it was in Merlin's nature to not listen to any of Arthur's words. There were just times when Arthur just couldn't pull rank on Merlin. When Merlin had his mind set on something, it was pretty much rooted. He wasn't a stubborn person. He was a person with magic and had his own way of dealing with things. Besides, who said anything about giving up? He wasn't just going to let the gargoyle have his jollies. No, Merlin was not going to make it that easy. If he was going to die, he was not going to die without a fight to the finish. At least then, his life would've been worth it. Merlin just wasn't sure how strong his magic was going to be since his body was still weak but he knew he had to try. He felt it was the only way to keep Arthur out of danger. Merlin slowed to a jog and didn't go unnoticed by Arthur, who turned to meet a sorry look on the servant's face. There was something awfully disheartening about that look in Merlin's eyes.

"I'm sorry Arthur. You are too important." Merlin's voice shook. He turned around to face his adversary and conjure a spell. He did not anticipate the distance between him and the gargoyle. It was a pretty bad move because it turns out that the gargoyle was only inches away from the young warlock. It didn't give him a chance to recite any spells. The gargoyle snatched Merlin by the shoulders with its clawed hind feet and flew up into the air.

"NOO! Merlin!" Arthur cried in horror as he watched Merlin being taken away by the monster.

The gargoyle's claws sank deeper into Merlin's back and caused him discomfort. As his life was further threatened, he could feel the magic pulsing in his veins. It was so different from the usual tingling under his skin whenever he used casual magic. Merlin often felt the full force of his power immerge during times of extreme anger and great distress. When the rage hit and the adrenaline started pumping, he felt nothing but power running in his veins. His blood felt like lava flowing in his body and a blinding white light formed in his mind. The feeling was so powerful that it often caused him to tremble. They flew higher and higher, farther and farther away from Arthur into the sky. Merlin's river blue eyes turned a fiery gold as he concentrated on the gargoyle.

" _Ástríce_." Merlin said, holding out his hand. As soon as he uttered this word, a sudden invisible bolt of force hit the gargoyle causing it to jerk backwards. In doing so, it lost balance and twirled in the air before taking a nose dive. Still holding onto Merlin, the gargoyle desperately flapped its wings to regain control. Merlin was being flung about like some sort of rag. He thought about casting a spell that would release him from the grasp of the gargoyle. But that would mean he'd fall ten stories to his death. So all he could do was hang on. The beast roared and swooped to and fro while plummeting towards the earth.

The wings flapped and just as it was about to come in for a crash landing, it managed to pull up. They were about eight feet in the air when the gargoyle absentmindedly loosened its grip on Merlin. Merlin fell and gravity pulled him downwards. He didn't actually feel the impact with the ground because the comfort of the darkness claimed him almost instantly.

In those few seconds, there was very little that Arthur could do except watch in horror. It was unclear to Arthur what exactly happened to cause the gargoyle to fly out of control. He couldn't see very clearly after the gargoyle snatched Merlin into the air. He knew _something_ happened and seconds later, Merlin was sent spiraling out of the gargoyle's hold. Arthur watched as Merlin's body hit the ground in a small thud. Lying unconscious some thirty feet away, Arthur needed to see if Merlin was alright. Seeing him so still made Arthur nervous and uneasy about Merlin's well-being. But relief soon came to Arthur when he saw Merlin move a finger, followed by a hand, then an arm, then the head and upper torso. Arthur's initial instinct was to run to Merlin's side but he was mesmerized by the gargoyle still trying to gain control of itself in the air.

Merlin was lying on his stomach when he regained consciousness. The first thing he felt was complete soreness. There was a light buzzing in his ear and everything hurt. He was convinced that the fall had broken every bone in his body. He tried to move as feeling returned to him inch by inch. He opened his eyes and waited for the images to focus. A moan escaped his otherwise pale lips. After realizing that it was something short of a miracle that none of his bones were broken, Merlin managed to turn himself to a seated position. He was still seeing stars for a moment but at least he was still alive.

By now, the gargoyle had recovered its ability to fly. It circled around above the treetops and made a beeline straight for Merlin. Arthur's eyes widened with fear for his friend. The gargoyle was really going to finish Merlin off. Still dazed and disoriented from the fall, Merlin remained seated on the ground. Arthur could see the gargoyle advancing towards its prey. He could not stand by as the beast zeroed in on his friend. He had to do something. Suddenly, a realization swept over him and he found a new burst of energy and bravery in himself that he never quite felt before. It was an odd sense of adrenaline – much different than from fighting against vicious creatures or going into battle. This was something that had always been there, but just never had the chance to surface until now. Right then, he understood the meaning of sacrifice and what it meant to give all he had to a cause. The importance of his existence finally dawned on him. His purpose in life was never made clearer. He suddenly understood the reason behind Merlin's loyalty and sacrificial ways. It all sort of came together in his brain at that moment.

Most people would consider him to be extremely foolish for what he was about to do. But as the heir to Camelot, Arthur knew his job was to serve and lead his people. He had to protect _his_ people and do whatever was in the best interest of _his_ people. Arthur had to defend all his people as they would defend him. Merlin may be his manservant and part of the hired help, but stripped of the title, Merlin was a citizen of Camelot. What kind of prince and future king would he be if he failed to defend this one person? When Arthur's life was on the line, Merlin didn't need to think twice about forfeiting all he had. Merlin was always so willing, yet Arthur didn't quite know why. Up until this sudden epiphany, Arthur had always been "by the book" and attached to the old ways. He was made to see things as King Uther saw them. But Arthur finally opened his eyes and came to realize that there were things that were more important than pride. He didn't care what anyone thought of him. There was one thing that he must do and if he would be reprimanded for making such a disagreeable act, then so be it. Merlin deserved so much better. He had to save Merlin – at all costs. Without hesitation, Arthur raced towards Merlin.

Just as the gargoyle came within close proximity, Arthur made his ultimate sacrifice. He dived on top of Merlin and tried to shield him with his body. If this was the last thing he'll ever do, it'll be worth it because Merlin was his friend. The impact of Arthur's fall knocked Merlin back and a throb of pain spread across his shoulders. Arthur's weight plus his chainmail coming down on a frail Merlin must hurt to some degree. The prince covered Merlin as best he could to protect his manservant from the gargoyle. Arthur shut his eyes tight and braced himself for the pain that he was about to follow.

Though Merlin was shocked by Arthur's valiant gesture, there was no time to dwell on it further. He locked eyes with the gargoyle as it advanced and a spell formed on the tip of his tongue. A swirl of gold lit in his eyes and the power in his blood rushed to the top of his head making him slightly dizzy. He drew a breath. Just when he was about to release the energy, a miracle happened. The gargoyle had turned into stone in midair and exploded into a million pieces. Debris rained on Arthur and Merlin.

Amazed that he hadn't died or felt any extreme pain, Arthur opened his eyes to realize that the threat has been somehow neutralized. The gargoyle was no longer targeting them. In fact, the gargoyle was destroyed. They waited for the giant dust cloud to settle. It was so thick that they breathed in coughed up dust for a while. Arthur looked around at the jagged pieces of stone that once had been the gargoyle. Winded from fear, exertion and relief, he tried to catch his breath while seating himself next to Merlin. He tried his best to compose himself.

Merlin remained speechless for a moment, still trying to make sense of what had happened. He would like to think that he was the one who destroyed the gargoyle. After all, he had all this power in him that he could've used. Though, Merlin wasn't sure if it would've been enough to defeat the gargoyle, but he would've at least been able to cripple it severely. Merlin couldn't help but be a little disappointed that he had nothing to do with it. He tried to figure out who could've possibly had the know-how to obliterate a gargoyle. Not many people knew of Merlin's situation and even less knew where he had gone. Thoughts flooded his head and it finally came to him. It was so obvious yet, it took him a while to realize who was behind it.

_Gaius._ Merlin should've known it was Gaius. Gaius had been hitting the books pretty hard the last few days to find a way to lift the mark on Merlin's head. By the looks of things, he definitely succeeded and not a moment too soon. A few seconds delay and they would've been torn to shreds, starting with Arthur. Leave it to good ol' Gaius to save them just in the nick of time – nothing like the last minute to make them sweat a little. Merlin couldn't help but smile and say a silent prayer thanking his guardian.

"Are you alright?" Arthur asked between breaths.

"Arthur!" Merlin gasped. "The gargoyle has been destroyed!"

"Yes, I know, you idiot. I can see that." Arthur rolled his eyes. Somehow, he wasn't surprised Merlin would say something so obvious and stupid.

"I can't believe it! It's really dead!" Merlin beamed. He turned his head this way and that way, observing the scatter of rock that fell all around them. His grin soon left his face when he remembered Arthur's courageous yet extremely foolish act of sacrifice. "Arthur, why'd you do that? Why did you try to shield me from the gargoyle?"

"As Prince and future King of Camelot, I have duties to my people. Not only must I lead and enforce, I must also strive to defend and preserve the well-being of everything in Camelot's existence." Arthur rambled. Merlin stared at Arthur with a puzzled expression, trying to figure out what he meant. "Keeping you lot safe is part of the job." Arthur sighed.

"You shouldn't have done that. You could've been killed." Merlin shook his head.

"I know – and I wouldn't have done it differently. Your life is just as important as any. I wouldn't trade your life for mine. I know some people back in Camelot would beg to differ. If they knew what I had done, they would think I've gone mad. But a servant is still a citizen of Camelot. And more importantly, you're my friend. Good friend and good servant combinations are hard to come by these days."

"Well, thank you for saving my life, Sire." Merlin said after a moment's pause. He was heartened by Arthur's unusually kind and unselfish words. Merlin was honored to be considered Arthur's friend. He never had the privilege of being more than a servant. And it was so humbling to finally realize how much Arthur valued his friendship.

"You would've done the same for me." Arthur shrugged off like as if it was nothing out of the ordinary. "What do you suppose happened here?" He glanced at the remnants of the gargoyle scattered all about him.

"I dunno. Whatever it was, we got lucky." Merlin grinned. There were some things that Arthur didn't need to know, especially those associated with magic.

"How odd that it should happen in such a way." Arthur said in a confused voice. Merlin hoped Arthur wouldn't try to over analyze things. It didn't take Arthur too long to brush his theories aside. He pulled himself up and reached a helping hand to Merlin. "Well, whatever it was, fate is on our side today. I say we'd better get out of here while we still can."

When Merlin stood up, he instantly felt the soreness in his muscles. He looked forward to going home and taking a steamy bath to melt away all his aches and pains. In addition, he could use a meal. Even Gaius' mushroom soup sounded good about now. And boy did he wish to be out of the cold and all snug in his comfortable bed by the fire. He could sleep for days – if Arthur would allow it. The wonderful images were filling Merlin's head and he began to smile. But that smile did not last too long.

Before Arthur and Merlin could take another step, a puff of white smoke swept across their path and a mysterious figure appeared. He was a tall fellow with an average built. His long stringy black hair fell right above a sharp pointy nose. Dressed in black, the haunting figure's wrinkled eyes were glowing orbs of bloody red. His cape hugged his body like a cocoon. A cold smirk spread across his thin lips. This was a man that needed no introduction.

"Blais." Arthur said. His voice was steady, showing no signs of disbelief.

"The one and only." Blais said and turned to Merlin, who stood by Arthur's side. "I thought I gave fair warning that your prince will meet his doom here. You chose not to listen. And well, here we are."

"Leave Merlin out of this." Arthur demanded. "He has done nothing."

"Rightfully so. If I have an issue with the employee, I should talk to the employer. Isn't that right?" Blais chuckled.

"What do you want?" Arthur had his hand on the hilt of his sword, ready to draw if provoked. But a sword was no match for a sorcerer.

"Getting directly to the point, I see." Blais observed. He enjoyed the fear resonating out of the prince and his manservant. It fueled his dominance. "The answer to your question is simple. I want the amulet."

"The amulet belongs in Camelot. It will not be given up." Merlin spoke finally.

"Ah, the mute one speaks. I haven't figured out how you managed to kill my poor gargoyle but that was only a rock thrown in your path. You haven't even begun to feel the wrath of Blais yet. If you deny me the amulet, you will watch your noble prince die a painful death. Then I will go after the old man Gaius. And if you still persist, I will take a holiday to the quaint little village of Ealdor and see about your mother. You don't want to know what I have planned for her." Blais laughed wickedly at the thought of Hunith squirming in his hold.

"No!" Merlin gasped at the horror those words brought to his soul. His eyes shook with fear as he envisioned losing all the people that made his life full.

"Don't listen to him, Merlin." Arthur said firmly. "He's just playing with your mind."

"You can't. I won't let you." Merlin spat while giving Blais a cold stare. His blood turned to a slight boil and he felt the magic surging in his veins. At this point, he didn't care if he revealed his true self to Arthur. The very fiber of his existence was threatened, along with the well-being of all those he cared deeply about. Arthur took no notice of Merlin's eyes suddenly turning gold.

Just as Merlin was about to hurl a ball of energy towards Blais, the evil sorcerer conjured up a spell that clasped metal shackles around Merlin's neck and wrists. In an instant, Merlin's concentration broke and he reached to pry himself free from the restraints. The one around his neck was tight and made breathing quite a challenge. Merlin choked and coughed, all the while clawing at the shackle around his neck.

"Let him go!" Arthur demanded. He drew his sword and advanced towards the sorcerer.

"Oh don't worry. I won't kill him." Blais said sarcastically. "Let's just say, the shackles are there for his own good so he won't think about trying something funny."

Arthur couldn't help but feel like he had the short end of the stick. Seeing Merlin suffering like this made him sick to his stomach. He wondered why Merlin needed to be restrained. It's not like the harmless servant could run away if he tried. Merlin was just a boy with no fighting skills whatsoever. It never occurred to Arthur that Merlin had the power to do more damage than he knew. Arthur made a vow to always protect Merlin and at that moment, he was doing a really lousy job of it.

"Give me the amulet." Blais said.

"Don't do it, Arthur. Don't…." Merlin wheezed. He had fallen to his knees.

"Silence!" Blais shouted angrily at the young warlock. With a wave of his hand, the shackle around Merlin's neck tightened. Merlin gasped for air as the suffocation increased.

"Stop!" Arthur cried in anguish.

With another wave of Blais' hand, the shackle loosened and Merlin was able to breathe again. He then threw a strip of electricity at Arthur and it knocked him painfully onto the ground. The voltage was not lethal and barely did much harm. It was not Blais' intention to kill Arthur right away. He just wanted to subdue him.

"Arthur!" Merlin screamed. He turned to Blais and said, "Please don't hurt him. You can do what you want with me….just spare him. Please…." Merlin found it odd that this was the same thing that happened in his dreams. He kept begging Blais to spare Arthur. But he was only rewarded with Blais' feral laugh. Arthur eventually recovered from the blow and got back on his feet.

"You are my prisoners and will do as I say. The amulet will be mine." Blais boasted. Holding out his hand once again, a slew of foreign words passed his lips. As he spoke, his command became stronger. Right before Arthur's very eyes, Merlin whole being disappeared into thin air.

"MERLIN! NOOO!" Arthur bellowed as he stared at the empty space that Merlin had taken up a second ago. "What have you done to Merlin?" The prince demanded.

"I haven't killed him, if that's what you mean." Blais said calmly. "You will join him soon enough, Arthur Pendragon." Another blast of electricity hit Arthur in the chest and sent him flying backwards.

Lying on the ground, he stared straight at the sky, trying to get his wind back. He heard Blais spewing another string of words. Before Arthur could get up and defend himself, his mind relaxed and soon saw nothing but darkness close in around him. He didn't want to succumb to the darkness. He needed to fight to get Merlin back. As hard as he tried, he couldn't hang onto consciousness any longer and surrendered.

**End of Chapter 11**


	12. A Blais of Un-Glory

Prince Arthur Pendragon was not the type to panic and lose control. He always believed that there was a way out of everything. Answers were there, one just had to know where to look. In all his years of training, nothing could've prepared him for this. Not only did he throw himself into impending danger, he also caused Merlin to do the same. He was taught and trained to battle any creature or beast, and in all cases, he triumphed as long as his opponent was tangible. Magic was something he had absolutely no control over.

He thought about Merlin. The bumbling idiot of a servant drove Arthur up the walls sometimes, but the same bumbling idiot was also his one true friend. He hated to admit it but he had grown rather attached to Merlin after all they've been through together. There was a brotherly bond between the two that neither one could explain. Arthur somehow inherited the role of _older brother_ to Merlin. And having acquired such a status not only gave Arthur the right to tease and ridicule Merlin on whim, but it also made him protective of Merlin. It was only alright when Arthur threw insults and pushed Merlin around. But when someone else tried to do the same, Arthur found himself engulfed with rage and lashed out at anyone who abused his manservant. He never meant to drag Merlin into any of this. He felt guilty and angry for not being able to better protect Merlin. It truly pained him to see how much Merlin suffered. He wondered what was happening to Merlin. For all he knew, Merlin could be hurt, or tortured, or worse - dead. The image caused a panic to stir in his mind.

Arthur needed to find a way out of the darkness. Time was wasting and he needed to save Merlin from whatever perils that lie in his path. Finding his consciousness was so important right then. He could hear the heaviness of his own breath become louder and louder as he ran – or at least he thought he was running. It was the ultimate hamster wheel effect – no matter how he tried to run, he remained stationary in the darkness. Arthur couldn't even see his hands in front of him. He only saw an abyss that resembled darker than the blackest night and a feeling that left him completely blind. Clawing his way in the inky darkness rendered him helpless. He felt defeated but he couldn't give up – not by a long shot. All he needed was a sign that he was going in the right direction.

Suddenly, he felt something wet fall against his cheek. The warm droplet had an odd texture to it. It was definitely thicker than water and yet it did not resemble the slippery feel of oil. The bothersome sticky droplets were sporadic and seemed to fall one at a time at uneven intervals. It was like as if they were annoying Arthur on purpose, yet at the same time, it was trying to lure him back to reality. It drove Arthur mad not being able to know what it was.

Another drop struck his cheek. This time, he was able to swat at it and wipe it off his face with the back of his hand. His head pounded and he let out a small groan. Eventually, he was starting to feel the blistering pain across his chest and the soreness in his shoulders when he hit the ground. Oh yes, he was regaining consciousness. The cruel sense of feeling was coming back to him and it wasn't pleasant. His eyes fluttered open and he squinted to figure out where he was. There was a glaring bright orange-yellow light. It gave off an artificial sort of warmth. There was nothing organic about it. Arthur knew he was in some sort of cave by the moisture in the air and an overpowering rusty smell of fresh dirt. Getting himself to sit up was a challenge, especially since everything hurt, but it was the first response.

"What the…" Arthur gasped in horror when he saw a wet smudge of blood across the back of his hand. He panicked, believing for a moment that he was staring at his own blood. Was he hurt? Did the blood belong to him? But as far as he knew, aside from the soreness, he had no open wounds.

As soon as the thoughts surrounded Arthur's mind, another one of those droplets hit him square on the crown of his head. Confused, he looked up with eyes still readjusting to the brightness of the mysterious light. Arthur's heart immediately sank when he witnessed the ghastly sight above him. It took another few seconds for the word "Merlin" to come out of the horrified grimace that formed on his lips. The blood that dripped on him belonged to Merlin. Accepting that it was Merlin's warm blood he felt on his cheek, was hard to swallow. He refused to believe it. Feelings of horror, shock, revulsion, panic, disgust, and grief all consumed Arthur. He could not speak or move for the immediate emotions were overwhelming. But one look into his eyes, one would know the utter chaos and rage that gradually consumed his soul.

Merlin's thin figure was suspended a few feet above where Arthur sat by what appeared to be three rows of lassos across his torso pinning the young warlock's arms to his sides. The orange lassos glowed with an intense ring of electricity, holding Merlin up magically in the air. He must've been hit pretty hard because his eyes were unfocused and he seemed to be weaving in and out of consciousness. The shackle around his neck was gone, only to be replaced by a light blotchy red bruise. Arthur starred at the blood coming out of a fresh gash on Merlin's cheek. Gravity pulled the blood droplets down his face, slithering slowly off Merlin's chin and landed upon Arthur. It was truly ironic that even in Merlin's defeated state, he was still able to help Arthur come out of his unconsciousness. Perhaps, deep down inside, Arthur knew it was Merlin's warm blood that touched his face.

Arthur was definitely not the type who grew faint at the sight of blood. Blood was a daily fixture in the life of a knight. Arthur was used to the idea of blood spill at an early age from the battle field and as seen on the training grounds. He may have been immune to the sight of gore, but he was not prepared to see Merlin strung up and tortured. No one deserved such treatment – especially one as innocent as Merlin. It nearly brought tears to the corners of Arthur's eyes to see what Blais had done to his friend. Arthur felt the anguish yet shared the pain. Merlin's head bobbed like as if he was regaining consciousness.

"Ah, now that we are all awake, shall we get the party started?" Blais said with a hint of mockery in his evil tone. He had parted his cape to reveal a stoic figure. His clothing consisted of a simple black tunic and black pants. Arthur often had a misconception of how an evil sorcerer should look. He should have a frightfully ugly appearance with some sort of deformity. Perhaps all the dark stories told to him as a child painted this surreal picture in his mind. However, much to Arthur's surprise, Blais didn't look anything at all like what he imagined. Instead, this one was quite fashionable, chiseled and rather well-built. He could've easily passed for a nobleman.

"Let Merlin go." Arthur demanded. "He has done nothing to you."

"Oh but you are wrong. He has done more damage than you think. And he will pay the price by watching you die a slow and painful death." Blais informed. Out of habit, Arthur reached for the hilt of his sword at his side, but soon realized it was not there.

"Are you looking for this?" Blais asked, summoning the sword with a single hand movement. The sword flew across the cave, came to a stop and spun around several times, taunting Arthur, before Blais set it down telepathically on a plateau behind him. As Arthur's gaze followed the sword travelling in the air, he noticed the three small windows in the wall forming a triangular pattern.

It was only then that Arthur realized they were back in the cave the Kayaruvians used for worship. The room was much darker since the sun passed over the sky. The light from a fire pit was roaring and surprisingly, the warmth did Arthur some good. His fingers were no longer numb from the bitter cold. Arthur's eyes immediately swept around the room trying to find something he could use against Blais. He was powerless without his sword and even more powerless with Merlin being used as a pawn. It was very unlike Arthur to not have a plan. He often had a backup plan, even if it was spur-of-the-moment. But right then, he had nothing. In battle, he always had a Plan B for every Plan A that had gone wrong. It was common sense to be prepared. But this was somehow different. He was not going up against flesh and blood. Blais was a sorcerer, which made him almost inhuman. To outsmart a sorcerer was going to take some special talent. One thing was for sure, he was not going to leave Merlin behind.

"There is no way out of this one, your Highness." Blais taunted. He had the advantage and Arthur knew it.

"You…you can't do this." Merlin drawled with voice raspy and weak.

"Oh, but I already have." Blais answered coolly. "Did you think you were going to get away from me so easily?" Suddenly, Blais levitated into the air, looking like a giant bat, and in a split second, he appeared inches away from Merlin's ear. "I know what you are." Blais whispered threateningly, words that only Merlin was meant to hear. Merlin flinched back.

"Leave him alone!" Arthur warned a little too defensively. He bolted up and stood on wobbly legs. Perhaps his nerves were starting to become frayed and just the idea of anyone threatening Merlin in any way was not acceptable.

Blais turned his attention to Arthur and descended to a few feet away from the prince. The sorcerer studied the angered yet pained expression on Arthur's face for a moment and then smiled. "Ah, so you _care_ about this one. Why are you so protective of this boy? Why do you care if I should kill him? Tell me why, Arthur Pendragon."

The words "…kill him" echoed wildly in Arthur's head. All rational thinking seemed to disappear in an instant and replaced by a blinding whirlwind of rage and anger. He told himself to remain calm, regroup his thoughts and calculate his options. But every fiber of his being wanted to attack his adversary right then and tear his head off.

"He means nothing to you. He's just a servant." Arthur spewed harshly and his tone softened. "Just…just let him go. Let him go and you can take me instead. I'm worth more than him." He bargained.

"No, Arthur." Merlin gasped. His voice was hoarse and weak. The electricity from the lassos burnt slits through the fabric of his clothing and chafed against his skin. It felt hot and searing, like as if he came into contact with a branding iron. The amount of pain was so horrible that he wanted to scream, but he held back with all his might. He did not want to give Blais the satisfaction of seeing him suffer.

"Are you willing to trade your life for that of a lowly servant?" Blais asked Arthur curiously. "They are usually the first ones tossed into the flame by the likes of you."

Perhaps in the beginning, Arthur considered Merlin nothing but a common servant, and sometimes even as low as a slave. But as the weeks turned into months, and the months into years, Arthur had grown close to this so-called slave. Merlin had unyielding faith in him and always supported him, even in the harshest and most vulnerable of times. And all the events that led up to this day have shown Arthur that Merlin was way more than a servant. No servant on the face of the earth would've done what Merlin did. He risked his life for Camelot and therefore risked his life for Arthur. Arthur may never admit it, but he remembered all the times the idiot saved his life. Merlin's undying loyalty to Arthur often got him into trouble and more often than not, his adamant behavior surprised Arthur.

_All citizens of Camelot shall be protected._ The words echoed in his head. It was the code of ethics that was often preached, but not really exercised by the high court. There were a lot of politically correct ways that Uther used to, as he put it, "keep the people happy." But Arthur was a man of his word. He did not say things he didn't mean or make broken promises. Arthur could not deny his own code of ethics. He knew that if Uther were here, he wouldn't give a rat's ass about what happened to a servant like Merlin. Merlin might mean nothing to Uther and the noblemen of the high court, but to Arthur, Merlin was a human being. He deserved mercy just as much as the next person. It was enough to be plagued with the image of a blood-covered Merlin because he had gone off and done something meaningful.

Arthur was silent but he didn't have to say much for Blais to understand what was going on in Arthur's mind. Blais suddenly cracked a wicked all-knowing smile.

"I think the plan is about to be changed." The sorcerer marveled as he rubbed his hands together in eagerness. "We have ourselves an interesting situation. Let's just see how much this stupid servant means to you."

"What do you mean? What are you going to do?" Arthur tried to remain calm.

Blais raised his arm up towards the roof of the cave and muttered a few words in an odd language that Arthur couldn't decipher. Just as the sorcerer did this, Arthur heard a grunt from Merlin. He turned his head to face Merlin and to his horror, he saw what the orange lassos were doing to his poor servant's lanky frame. As the orange lassos pulsed and turned a blood-red color, the loops tightened around Merlin's body. The rips in the fabric widened to expose a burn marks upon his pale skin. The expression on Merlin's white face told Arthur just how much pain was inflicted. Arthur wondered how it was possible for Merlin to not even let out a sob for the amount of pain he must've been in. Only a soft moan passed the servant's lips as he teetered on the brink of consciousness.

_If only I can free my arms._ Merlin thought, even though his scattered mind made it nearly impossible to focus on a good defense spell. He tried to conjure up something – anything – but he had trouble summoning his magic. He figured it must be something in the lassos that prohibited him from tapping into his magic source.

"Stop it! Stop! You'll kill him." Arthur bellowed.

"Do you care?" Blais questioned. He loosened the lassos around Merlin's body. And just as he did this, Arthur could hear Merlin's raspy breath struggling for oxygen.

"Y-yes." It took Arthur a moment's thought to give Blais a frank answer. Arthur was ashamed that he even hesitated before replying. It was a simple question and to it, an easy answer. He cared about Merlin and that was the truth. So, why was he so torn by admitting it and revealing the fact that, unlike Uther, he had a sense of compassion? Was he afraid of letting his father down by caring for someone so low in class? Or did he feel somehow threatened by that question because he was so caught up in keeping his image?

"Ah well, this is a first." Blais said in a bemused tone.

"You won't gain anything by killing him." Arthur suggested.

"Who said I was going to kill anyone…right away?" Blais chuckled lightly. He rubbed his chin lightly with his forefinger and thumb. "Hmm, I was going to let this foolish boy have the pleasure of watching your life slip away, inch by inch. But that was before I realized how much this one means to you. The tables are turned suddenly and I think I'll have more fun this way."

"What do you hope to achieve by doing this?" Arthur blurted.

"I will have the satisfaction of seeing both of you suffer a painful death, Arthur Pendragon. And eventually, Camelot will fall into my hands and all will be mine." Blais revealed. "See, in the end, I _always_ get what I want."

"It's not going to happen." Arthur said stubbornly.

"Oh, you are wrong." Blais responded. He clenched his fist and the lassos tightened around Merlin again. Merlin felt the fiery bands dig into his torso. It was so bad this time that he couldn't help but cry out in pain.

"Don't!" Arthur pleaded. "What do you want? Just tell me what you want. Name your price." The slight quiver in his voice indicated a sort of apprehensiveness that gave away his desperation.

Blais loosened the lassos once again, leaving Merlin gasping greedily for air. "See, that's the problem with you rich folk. Do you think you can put a price tag on everything? This is not about money – well, not really. Money can't buy what I want."

Merlin fought the tears that were forming behind his eyes. He knew what extremes Blais was capable of and therefore, he had to do something before it was too late. Merlin had been brave all his life and dealt with whatever situations were thrown at him, but never had he ever felt so scared and unsure of what to do right then. He needed to save Arthur.

"I must admit that I am impressed yet, at the same time, baffled in your undying loyalty to someone of his _kind._ " Blais scoffed with a tone teeming with anger and scorn. "I fail to understand you. Perhaps you are more unlike your father than I thought. Or maybe you do it to spite your father. Nevertheless, Uther is a man of rules. So, do yourself a favor, admirable Prince, and allow this foolish boy to die by my hands. It'll be far less painful than what's planned for him."

Arthur couldn't explain it, but the words _his kind_ bounced around in his head, like as if it was supposed to contain some sort of significant meaning. He wondered what Blais meant by that. Caught in a tangle of confusion, Arthur found it most peculiar and at the same time, rather curious. But there was no time to dwell upon the enigmatic words that came out of the sorcerer's mouth. He had to think of a way out of this mess and perhaps stalling was his only option right now.

"It's not up to you to decide someone's fate, regardless of class." Arthur said, feeling sick to his stomach.

"Oh, I think we can both agree that he's a little more than _just_ a servant." Blais corrected calmly, voice laced with a hint of sarcasm. "Quite frankly, I'm a bit flabbergasted that son of Uther would make such a rare exception for the likes of his sort."

Blais was going to reveal Merlin and there was nothing the young warlock could do. He didn't want Arthur to find out this way. If anything, he wanted to be the one to tell him face to face. Merlin spent hours mustering up the courage and weighing out the different scenarios on how Arthur should learn the truth about his magic. He couldn't - no, he wouldn't – let Blais be the one to uncover the secret. Merlin figured if he was going to die anyway, Arthur needed to hear the words come out of his own mouth – even if it was the last thing he was ever going to do.

"It's the amulet you're after." Merlin found his voice.

"He does have a point there." Blais spewed.

Although shaky, Merlin managed to make known that he was still going to defend and stand up for his cause. "And you shall never have it."

"Tsk, tsk. That attitude only makes things worse for you. Now, I might have to hurt you again." Blais said. His words sizzled like a hot bolt of electricity.

"No, don't." Arthur stammered. "Please don't."

It wasn't like Arthur to say "please" to anyone. He never had to say "please". Whatever he wanted, he always got – but only because he was the crowned prince. People were used to his every beck and call. He did not accept the word "no" among his subjects. In fact, no one had ever had the guts to say "no" to his face, that is, until Merlin came along. Merlin was the only one brave enough to ever object to Arthur. This made Arthur furious, yet at the same time, having someone disagree with him was the only thing that made him feel human.

"Just – just let him go." Arthur said desperately. "You've proven your point. I'll – I'll get you what you want. You don't need him. You win."

"Damn right I win." Blais blurted, savoring his success. "No one can help either of you now. But if it's a game you want to play, I'm all for it. I've deteriorated Merlin's health so much that I doubt he could help you even if he tried."

The words burned in Arthur's ears. He wanted to tear Blais apart, but he had to control the rage pulsing in his veins. There had to be a right time to fight, and now probably wasn't the best time – especially since both their lives were in Blais' hands. It was pretty evident that Blais was the over proud, over confident type who found extreme pleasure in basking in his own glory. He was utterly arrogant and truly believed that he could not be defeated. Triumph was his vanity and it fed his ego to the fullest.

Arthur had seen it befell many a great king with zealous personalities of this sort. Being too sure, too prematurely of something often bred grave and undesirable consequences. Arthur knew that it was only a matter of time when opportunity would arise. Anticipating Blais' next move drove Arthur crazy, but it was something he had to do. He watched in horror as Blais reached his hand out towards Merlin once again. He knew what was coming.

As Blais curled his fingers into a fist, the fiery orange lassos tightened around Merlin's torso, practically squeezing the very life out of him. Before Arthur could make a new plea for Merlin's life, Blais opened his hand. In a single command, the glowing bands vanished, releasing Merlin in the process. The smoldering lassos that dug into Merlin's flesh had been too much for him to bear. The young warlock let out a sharp, painful gasp before falling listlessly to the ground. Sprawled on his stomach, Merlin remained in an unconscious heap. Arthur wasted no time in rushing to the side of his fallen friend.

Arthur ogled grotesquely at the bloody rips on the back of Merlin's tunic. The winter fabric had been tattered to near shreds. Arthur could not tear his eyes from the mix of the coagulated blood and fresh blood that seeped in three distinctive welts across Merlin's back. Arthur shot a quick glance over Merlin's wounds. Although there was a substantial drawing of blood, he decided that the wounds were not extremely deep, or then again perhaps Arthur was just fooling himself into thinking it for the sake of sanity.

"Merlin." Arthur whispered and touched Merlin's shoulder. In response, Merlin stirred and let out a soft groan, showing signs that he was coming around.

"Ar-thur." Merlin murmured weakly. "You mustn't." He tried to reason, but the pain was so great.

"I'll get us out of this." Arthur mumbled loud only enough for Merlin to hear.

Arthur surveyed his surroundings trying to figure out if there was anything he could use against Blais. Something caught his attention as his eyes traveled upwards to the three openings in the high end of the cave. The signs of dawn breaking were peeking through with misty shafts of light. Those three small windows were the only contact with the outside world for Arthur and Merlin. Without it, they failed to realize just how fast time slipped away since their arrival. It was comforting to see the crack of light reaching into the cave, perhaps like a ray of hope.

Merlin was gradually regaining consciousness. He became aware of his surroundings and focused his eyes on Arthur. The expression on the prince's chiseled face told Merlin that he was indeed planning on doing something. The more Merlin moved, the more the welts on his torso burned. Regardless of the pain, he pushed himself up to a seated position. He didn't feel as cold as he should because of the shared warmth in the fire pit. Apparently, even someone as cold-blooded as Blais still needed the fire to keep warm.

The prince's eyes then zeroed in on his sword lying peacefully on the plateau behind Blais. Even if he retrieved his sword, what would he do with it? It was probably no match for a sorcerer. But he liked to think that the sword was the answer and that the least he could do, was make an effort. It was highly unlikely that their captor would somehow set them free.

Arthur suddenly dove for his sword. Blais' eyes flashed and the sword moved out of Arthur's reach. The cape around Blais billowed around his body making him appear all powerful and commanding. He muttered a string of foreign words and a serpent of fire sprang out from the palm of his hand. It was suspended in midair, hissing and slithering about like a real serpent.

Orange and red flames trailed the snake as Blais sent it hurling towards Arthur. Merlin reached out his hand to counter a spell, but before he could breathe a word, the serpent struck Arthur squarely in the chest. Merlin watched in slow motion as Arthur was thrown back. The heat of the fiery serpent was so strong that it burnt through a spot on Arthur's chainmail. A thin swirl of gray smoke sizzled out of the melted intricate wiring. The serpent then twirled in the air before returning to Blais and disappearing into the same palm it came out of.

The prince lay on his back dazed but surprisingly conscious, feeling a rather excruciating burning sensation emanating from his chest. The odd smell of molten metal mixed with burnt flesh filled his nostrils and scared him. Of all the injuries he suffered on quests and battles, he never felt this much pain before. It was almost intolerable. He felt darkness drawing over his eyes. It was inviting and would be so easy to just let the darkness fall around him. He would be free of pain, if even for a brief moment. He heard Merlin's defenseless voice cry his name and it was probably then that he decided to fight the darkness.

Merlin could tell the injuries were quite serious by looking at the singed blood staining Arthur's clothing and smoking armor. His eyes soon narrowed onto Blais. Magic stirred in his body and he could feel it tingling in his blood. Merlin wanted to summon up all his strength and attack, but he knew the extent of his wounds. He was weak and his magic would only go so far. Nonetheless, he had to try. His river blue eyes turned fiery gold. Holding out his hand and without muttering a word, he created a force that would stun the evil sorcerer. But before he could knock Blais off his feet, Blais blocked it. Merlin nearly passed out. He reminded himself to reserve his energy, which he would need later.

Before Blais could think of another way to inflict more pain onto Arthur and Merlin, something changed. Bright beams of light came through the three windows in the cave, illuminating the area. Merlin watched the three beams quickly converge into a spot on the adjacent wall. When they aligned, a sudden mist appeared. The mist changed into a dense golden fog. It wasn't overpowering and an odd warm breeze came with it. Merlin squinted at the brightness of the light.

Merlin ought to be frightened, but he wasn't. There was something friendly and reassuring about this phenomenon. Perhaps it was the magic in Merlin's body responding to his surroundings. Every nerve in his body was telling him to relax and that somehow, everything was going to be alright. Merlin wanted to believe it, he really did, but he couldn't, not when there was Arthur to worry about. Arthur was also staring at the haze that formed, though he reacted to it differently than Merlin. Arthur clearly didn't feel as calm or as relaxed. It wasn't fear in his eyes and body language. It was more like preparing for the worse. He scampered towards Merlin in every effort to protect the manservant.

A strange figure came out of the golden sunlight and floated at the exact spot where the light aligned. The willowy man had a long prickly beard and hard wrinkled eyes. His attire was quite simple and easy, which consisted of a long glossy robe that seemed to sparkle when the light hit it a certain way. He carried a long ivory staff.

"Who are you?" Blais exclaimed to the figure, ready to attack. Bushy rings of fire were dancing in his hands, ready to be dispersed vehemently. "Speak or feel the wrath of my power." He boldly demanded.

The figure turned his head and looked at the evil sorcerer. Blais must've decided that the man was an immediate threat, because he unleashed the ring of fire towards the bearded figure. The ring of fire grew tenfold and turned into a roaring blaze. Even Merlin and Arthur had to shield their eyes from the intensity of the heat and light.

Without saying a word, the bearded man raised his staff and a growing ball of white and gray formed in front of him. It took a while for Merlin to figure out that it was air. A gust of wind suddenly kicked up soil and debris all around. The bearded man cast the ball forward. Arthur and Merlin watched it twirl and collide with the approaching wave of fire, blowing it out like a candle. The force was so great that it knocked Blais to the ground. There was a deep rumble within the mountain after the impact. It felt like a small earthquake. Stones and debris were crumbling from the ceiling of the cave. Merlin cast a spell protecting himself and Arthur from the falling debris. Arthur hadn't realized why the jagged rocks and soil barely touched him. He hadn't made the connection since his attention was on the astonishing episode unfolding right before his eyes.

With a raise of his ivory staff, the bearded man created a whirlwind, spinning inside the cave taking up rubble. The current of air pulled everything into its path. This included Blais. Merlin watched the sorcerer being hurled into the twister and flung around in circles. Although everything in that cave seemed to be caught in complete chaos, Merlin realized that he and Arthur were stationary and safe. The bearded man murmured some foreign words, words that even Merlin didn't recognize, and a tall hazy translucent portal appeared. The opening had an opaque color, making it impossible to see through.

Everything happened so fast. The bearded man raised his staff higher and the tornado containing Blais got sucked into the portal. As soon as Blais disappeared, the portal vanished. All the wind-blowing settled. Bearded man remained levitating in midair at the spot where the sunlight from the three windows aligned. His robe was still sparkling in the light like a diamond. He stared at the two humans quizzically.

"What's happened?" Arthur whispered breathlessly to Merlin, like as if Merlin had an explanation for everything.

"N-not sure." Merlin croaked. He let go of the shield that was protecting them. Using that bit of magic left him exhausted. The nasty wound on Arthur's chest caught his attention. "Ar-thur, you're hurt."

"So are you." Arthur replied, lowered his head back down. His head was spinning and he wanted to close his eyes.

"You will not be harmed, man of the future." The bearded man spoke to no one in particular, for he knew that both humans before him will play a changing role in the future.

_Man of the future._ It was a statement that described both Merlin and Arthur accurately. Prince Arthur will rise to become the powerful once and future King of Camelot. And the manservant Merlin will become the most prominent wizard in history. Indeed, they were both _men of the future._

"It's The Great One." Merlin gasped, as it dawned on him.

"What are you talking about?" Arthur pelted in an almost annoyed tone, but only because he was feeling quite awful and had no patience.

"It's the one that the Kayaruvians all worshipped. It makes sense. Think about it, Arthur. The three windows on the side of the cave. The sunlight hitting it just the right way." Merlin sounded quite amazed. "You said yourself that the people would sit here all day waiting to see The Great One appear."

Arthur had no words. He only stared at the bearded man in amazement. Merlin was right. He knew Merlin was right. He never would have believed it if he hadn't seen it with his own eyes. He listened to the stories casually and only considered them to be myths. The Great One didn't always appear and there were instances where he wouldn't appear for lifetimes. But the Kayaruvians believed this Great One existed and passed the tradition down from generation to generation.

"You saved us from the sorcerer, Great One. Thank you." Merlin said while crawling painfully towards the bearded man. His eyes turned downwards in deep respect.

"He who dares to disturb a place of devotion and tarnish it with evil shall answer to me." The Great One responded. Merlin could not begin to imagine what that meant.

"What did you do to Blais?" Merlin asked curiously.

"He will not bother you hence forth. He has been sent into The Abyss, where he will remain for eternity." The Great One replied. "You both have done no wrong and are free to go."

"Thank you. We are humbled." Merlin said. He shot a glance at Arthur's direction and noticed how still he had gotten. Arthur was struggling to stay awake, and from the looks of things, he was gradually losing the battle. "My friend is hurt badly. Can you help him?"

"I have the power to condemn as I see fit. Not to mend what is broken." The Great One explained. "I am bound to the light in this cave. Therefore, my time is limited." The sun's rays were moving and the three beams of light that collided with one another were starting to break. The Great One flickered, like as if he was about to vanish. "However Emrys, there _is_ something I'll do before I go."

Merlin jumped at the word "Emrys" and swung his head around to see if Arthur heard. Apparently, Arthur hadn't because he had fallen unconscious. "Do not look so surprised. I'm a prophet after all. I know who you are and what you will do. Though, the time for explanation is not now." The Great One said no more on the subject. Merlin could have pressed on for details, but he didn't. He knew better than to do that.

"I will transport you and your friend to your horses at the base of the valley. And from there, you will have to make your journey home. It is the most that I can do." The Great One said and flickered once again at the waning light.

"We are most grateful at whatever help you can give us." Merlin dipped his head. The Great One raised his staff.

M.M.M.

Before Merlin could express his thanks, the solitude of the cave was replaced with the open valley in front of the mountain. Merlin was still on his knees and a few feet away from him Arthur lay unconscious. The frosty winter air was nipping at Merlin's bare skin. He'd lost his cloak somewhere along the way and was suddenly feeling the brunt of the weather. The horses were as they left them, watering by the stream and grazing on some patches of dried grass.

Merlin crawled to Arthur and called his name several times before a soft groan can be heard passing the prince's lips. Merlin surveyed the messy wound on Arthur's chest. It was quite a serious injury, one that needed immediate attention. Gaius was the medicine man and had many ways of curing ailments. He would know what to do, but the old physician was not there. Merlin, also quite injured himself, was starting to panic. His heart raced and palpitated uncomfortably against his chest. There was only one thing left for him to do.

Merlin was not skilled at healing spells. It was the one part of magic that Merlin felt inexperienced with and often failed at it, no matter how hard he tried. In fact, healing spells were the toughest characteristic of magic to master. Merlin understood that to conjure an effective heal, it was both physically and mentally demanding. Power was not enough for even the most experienced sorcerer to do a heal if he didn't have control. Otherwise, it would consume all his energy and he would die. Merlin was aware that the extent of his injuries weakened his magic but he had to try.

The young warlock pressed the palm of his hand onto the bloody wound. He summoned forth whatever magic he had left in his body. Before long, his river blue eyes turned into a fiery gold color. In deep concentration, the foreign words _Þurhhæle dolgbenn_ rolled off his tongue with conviction. When it was done, he felt drained. Even his breathing was labored. He took his hand away from Arthur's wound and inspected his handy work. Much to his dismay, it didn't quite work as well as he'd like. The wound was only partially healed and even at partially healed, it was still pretty bad. Merlin couldn't afford to try the spell again. He had already used up all the power he had and to try something like that again would surely kill him.

Merlin pulled off his neckerchief and used it as a bandage for Arthur's wound. He felt cold, hungry, tired, and just plain awful. The new injuries were extremely painful, making it a difficult task to move the slightest without a spasm of pain erupting, but he had to push onward.

"Mer-lin?" Arthur drawled. Merlin's healing spell may not have healed Arthur completely but at least he was well enough to regain consciousness. Arthur opened his eyes to find sunlight falling on his face. The last thing he remembered was being in the cave and The Great One vanquishing Blais.

"We have to get out of here." Merlin said as he proceeded to pull Arthur up by the armpits. He swung Arthur's arm over his shoulder and they staggered towards the horses like a couple of drunken fellows.

Getting Arthur onto his horse was easier than Merlin thought. Even in his poor condition, Arthur somehow managed to hoist himself up onto the horse without much help. Merlin was concerned that Arthur would fall off his horse, but Arthur waved him off, saying that he was fine. Bent over from extreme pain and fatigue, it was quite obvious that he couldn't take charge of his horse. Merlin tied the reigns of Arthur's horse onto the saddle of his own before mounting and riding off into the direction in which they came.

M.M.M.

The sun had set in the East by the time they reached the opening of the Allerian Woodlands. The vastness of the forest was intimidating but only so in Merlin's mind. He figured if they kept going, they would make it back to Camelot by dawn. He was growing weary of the travels but he needed to press forward, for Arthur's sake. They made a short stop for some water and a bite of old bread. Merlin's silence worried Arthur a great deal. It wasn't in the servant's character to remain wordless for such a long period of time. Usually by now, the idiot would be rattling off on some nonsense, completely annoying the hell out of Arthur. But the healing spell took a lot out of him and Merlin's health was gradually failing.

Soon, the moonlight lit the trail in which servant led master through the woods in single file. The air became colder with the night closing in. It was so cold that Arthur could see his breath smoking before him when he exhaled. His teeth chattered and his hands were numbing so much that he had to pull his undershirt out to cover it. But he was still wearing his chainmail and armor, which provided some defense against the cold. Merlin, however, had nothing but his old tattered coat. As Merlin led Arthur's horse, the prince couldn't help but stare at Merlin for a while – anything that would help him stay awake.

_He must be freezing._ _The exposure to this weather can't be good for him._ Arthur thought pitifully. His gaze soon fixed upon Merlin's back, where rips in the clothing exposed the horrific bloodied welts across his back. Merlin appeared to be nearly slumped over on his horse. It was getting so bad that there was a moment where it really looked like he was about to fall off his horse completely. Arthur must've called his name several times before Merlin finally answered.

"We must stop." Arthur said. "You need rest."

"No, Arthur. We can't. We have to keep moving. Just a few more miles." Merlin's voice shook. He seemed to straighten up a bit after hearing Arthur's voice. He couldn't let Arthur see how weak he was. His job was to protect and serve his prince. It was his duty to get Arthur back to Camelot alive. The longer they lingered, the slimmer the chances were of that happening.

"We should get a fire going – warm up. And rest." Arthur suggested, barely able to feel his fingers. It was more for Merlin's sake than for himself.

"We have to keep moving." Merlin repeated. There was too much determination in him to give into any temptation.

"Your – your wounds need tending." Arthur said.

"I'm fine. It's not as bad as it looks." Merlin lied.

And with that, no more words were exchanged for a long time. The scenery remained unchanged for many hours as they followed the path through the Allerian Woodlands. The ground to the left and right of them were knotted with thick roots and vines. Their horses provided a steady pace down the narrow trail. A glimmer of silver moonlight through the tree tops supplied them with the only form of light. There were many miles between the Allerian Woodlands and Camelot. Even the density of bare trees became claustrophobic to a point where they felt they would never reach the other side of the wood. Sounds of nightly forest creatures were their only sense of comfort along their journey, making them feel less lonely in the darkness of the woods. There was a soft hooting of an owl followed by a flutter of wings.

By the time Arthur and Merlin reached the wonderful and inviting gates of Camelot, it was the break of morning. The sun had only just begun to peek through the frosty horizon. Most people were merely starting to wake from their slumber. Seeing the tower flags of Camelot flapping against the breeze lifted Arthur's spirits and heartened him tremendously. He knew he and Merlin were in the arms of safety at last. Even from afar, the guards on patrol in the towers had already spotted the travelers drawing near and the news soon reached the gatekeepers and those around the castle grounds.

Merlin broke his horse into a jog and led Arthur's horse quickly through the gates. It was still very early and only a handful of people were up and about going to their jobs. As they headed towards the grand entrance of the castle, a trail of such people sped after them in curiosity and awe. Whispers and murmurs erupted in the growing crowd. Everyone longed to know what happened and to offer help to their beloved prince. Arthur looked terribly beaten – like he'd been through a meat grinder. The Prince of Camelot usually came out unscathed upon returning from quests and battles, but only because he was a champion at his trade and everyone believed Arthur to be invincible. They used to sing songs in taverns about him being "made of iron." His defeated appearance frightened the people, both for the security of their prince and for their kingdom.

The open atrium was slowly filled by a handful of knights, several entrance guards, a couple of servants and maids, and some other professionals who happened to be passing through. Merlin's and Arthur's horses came to a stop in front of the grand staircase entrance. Soon, they were flooded with a chatter of people wanting to offer assistance and trying to decide what was best for their prince in this state of emergency. Arthur rolled off his horse and into the arms of two strong knights. There were shouts of orders from the knights and the sound of running feet spread throughout the square from people trying to carry out those instructions.

Dazed, Arthur heard a mixture of voices around him, most of which inquired about his health. He looked around frantically for Merlin. _Give the prince some room. Move back! Move back!_ He heard someone yell.

"Help Merlin. He's hurt too." Arthur slurred, not sure who he was talking to.

"Sire, you are not well. Lean on me. We will get you to Gaius." A knight stammered, and turned around to throw a few commands. "Oi, Stable boy! Take care of the horses." A thin lad of about fifteen, clad in a brown winter cloak, appeared on spot and proceeded to take Arthur's horse away.

Arthur suddenly caught sight of his servant's pale face. Merlin had already dismounted his horse and stood there facing him in a stupor. He appeared to be slightly swaying on his heels and the hollow look in his glassy eyes convinced Arthur that there was something terribly wrong with the servant. Arthur wanted to get to Merlin, but Merlin's face grew farther and farther away, replaced by the worried multiplying faces of strangers blocking his line of vision.

"Please." Arthur begged. He wondered why everyone was fussing over him when there was someone in greater need of attention. "Merlin. He needs help."

People rushed pass Merlin to get to the prince, forgetting about the servant altogether. They treated Merlin like as if he was invisible and unimportant. Merlin showed disinterest and indifference. He understood the well-being of the prince was the first and foremost priority. Everybody else came second. The people had a right to be worried about their prince. After all, the look of Arthur's wound was enough to show that he'd been through a malicious deal. And so Merlin understood that servants didn't matter and he felt no inferiority towards the people for their actions.

Faces and voices swarmed around Merlin. His head felt heavy and breathing quite shallow. There was an odd detached feeling in his body, like as if he was floating on air. Exhaustion from the long chain of events and the overexposure to extreme cold had taken its toll on Merlin. He could cry for help, but somehow, he couldn't speak. Something robbed him of his voice. Unexplainable black dots began to dance in his vision. The sounds around him grew farther and farther away, like as if he was listening to an echo. Merlin thought he was fine, mostly because he wanted to be fine. He figured a good night's sleep and a few pain eradicating draughts prescribed by Gaius would bring him back to his usual self in no time. He had no idea how wrong he was.

Merlin caught a glimpse of Arthur's blond head amidst the people and it seemed for a second, they locked eyes. Then without warning, Merlin's whole world went black. He fell unconscious even before hitting the ground. This finally prompted some attention from the bystanders. A broad-shouldered blacksmith was nearest to Merlin. He knelt down and proceeded to check the boy's vital signs.

"We must get him to Gaius. This boy barely has a pulse!" The blacksmith exclaimed to another man, who was looking over the collapsed servant. Arthur may have been sluggish and incoherent, but he somehow heard what the blacksmith said regarding Merlin. This gave Arthur a shock. The only words that caught his ears were – _This boy barely has a pulse._

"Merlin!" Arthur cried out hysterically as he crawled over all the people to get to Merlin. Some knights tried to hold him back, while others called his name and mumbled speech that he didn't register. But he had his way. When he reached the spot, the blacksmith had already scooped Merlin up in his hefty arms.

"Arthur." An authoritative, yet concerned voice thundered through the crowd and suddenly all the people were silent. Arthur looked up and noticed all the people had their heads turned downwards and eyes cast steadfastly at the cobblestones. Only one person could have such an effect on the people – it was King Uther.

The royal highness was still dressed in his sleep robes save a long warm fur cloak draped majestically over his shoulders. He was not properly groomed when the news of his son's return reached him and sparked haste. "Are you alright, my son? They told me you were injured. What happened? Oh heavens! Look at your chest!" Uther rambled upon seeing Arthur at first glance. "Guard, prepare Gaius for receiving Arthur at once!"

"Someone has gone on the errand already, Sire." The guard answered.

"I'm fine, father. It is Merlin who needs help." Arthur said, ignoring Uther's fuss. Arthur stared at the near lifeless body the blacksmith carried and hardly believed that it was Merlin. All the color had left Merlin's face. Arthur glanced over the bloody tatters of Merlin's clothes and his eyes soon travelled to the deep red bruise that encircled his neck from the shackle. Blood had already clotted on the bruise on the side of his cheek. It was the first time Arthur really took a good look at his manservant. He was quite taken by Merlin's injuries and broken appearance. Something compelled him to touch Merlin's hand. It was icy.

"I will take him to Gaius, my Lord." The blacksmith said and dipped his head. He turned and was about to make his way towards the commoner's entrance.

"No, take the front entrance. It's faster." Arthur instructed.

"Arthur! He will do no such thing." Uther objected. It was not customary for the hired help to use the front entrance. The front entrance, which led into the Great Hall, was meant only for the noblemen and royalty as invited by the King. Servants and other lowly helps were not allowed to come and go via the front entrance. They always had to use the commoner's entrance, which was located in the rear of the castle. Basically, it was the long way with many hallways and staircases.

"Please, father! There is no time for formalities. He saved my life and now we need to try and save his. I never would've made it back had it not been for him. We suffered greatly at the hands of Blais in the Kayas, but as injured as Merlin was, it was he who led my horse back to Camelot throughout the night. I owe Merlin my life!" Arthur blurted. He sounded devastated and frenzied enough for Uther to become concerned with his son's well-being.

After a slight moment's thought and hesitation, Uther reluctantly gave a wave of his hand and said to the blacksmith, "Go and take the front entrance." The blacksmith bowed deeply.

"Tell Gaius to help Merlin first, before coming to me." Arthur demanded before sending the blacksmith on his way.

"Arthur…." Uther began to object again.

"It's alright, father. I'm fine. Merlin needs to be looked at first." Arthur interrupted softly. He intently watched Merlin's limp body being carried away.

Arthur needed to know if his friend was going to be alright. He couldn't put negative thoughts into his head now, even though he feared for the worse. He felt lost and unable to move from his spot. Disoriented and in shock, it was like as if he didn't know what to do or where to go. Arthur would've stood there all day had it not been for Uther. The King threw a bunch of demands to people around him and personally led Arthur into the castle. Amidst the noise of people scurrying alongside, Arthur obediently followed Uther. Arthur's face was etched with a tired and bewildered countenance.

**End of Chapter 12**


	13. Sharing the Weight of the World

The comforts of darkness were far greater than anything Merlin could ever imagine. It did not render him into an inferno of fear and chaos, as most would suspect. The blackness of the void offered a mellow sense of security and refuge. It was a sanctuary from anything that could potentially hurt him. With that, Merlin barricaded his mind into the timeless abyss as he selfishly drifted deeper and deeper into the soothing arms of darkness.

Things had a way of getting lost - thoughts, emotions, memories. It was impossible to keep track of time in darkness. Perhaps it had been hours, days, or even weeks - Merlin didn't care. He only wanted to be left alone. It was so much better this way - he was at peace, or so he thought. He liked the way things were for a change. He liked forgetting - letting go of all memories. But just when he thought nothing could sway him from returning into the light, a twinge of something that felt a bit like uneasiness mixed with guilt peaked in the distant pockets of his mind. He wanted so much to ignore it, but he couldn't. Someone was calling his name over and over again. The voice sounded familiar, yet unfamiliar.

Merlin woke with a start. His eyes flashed open and he choked on a gasp of air. "Where...?!" Merlin cried in confusion, not sure of where he was.

"It's alright. You are at home. You're safe." Gaius reassured gently as Merlin whipped his head to the direction of the voice. The fire in the hearth cast long shadows against the walls. Merlin was able to see Gaius' form in an old wicker chair pulled up next to Merlin's bed.

"Gaius. Gaius!" Merlin exclaimed, not knowing where to begin. A blistering sensation tore through his body and caused him to express pain. The horrible spasm of pain triggered all the memories to return - travelling to the Kayas, watching the gargoyle crumble into dust, being captured and tortured, being saved by the Great One, Blais being thrown into The Abyss, the long and arduous journey back to Camelot.

"Easy, now." Gaius advised. "You must stay still or you'll irritate those burns."

Merlin's heart eased after realizing he was back in Gaius' chambers. As he reclined back onto the bed, he involuntarily jerked at the pressure applied to the wounds on his back. It was unforgiving, like brushing up against a hot branding iron. Nearly bringing tears to his eyes, he had to resort to lying on his side to keep from igniting the pain. He had tight bandages wrapped around his chest and upper arms from where the lassos branded his skin. His face turned white as he took a some difficult and labored breaths.

Gaius' chambers always had an unusual combination of medicinal smells, which Merlin had grown quite used to over the years. However, at that moment, he also noticed a hint of a different smell that lingered in the air. It was the smell of cooked food. He identified it to be a broth or stew. He could feel a small tremor in his stomach indicating hunger. He brought the palm of a hand to his stomach and only then did he realize he had been changed into fresh sleep clothes. His torn and grimy clothing from his journey had been discarded and his skin gave off a clean feeling, like as if someone took the time to bathe him. It appeared that his bed had remained stationary by the fireplace, a spot that was usually reserved for when Merlin was sick. He felt the toasty warmth of the fire in his face and the snug blankets that covered his body. His body hurt and he felt an odd twinge of nausea in his throat. There was certainly a hunger burning in his belly but he was unsure of what he could and couldn't hold down. Food should be the last thing on his mind, aside from the pain, but it was the second innate feeling he sensed upon waking. His mind was a little fuzzy but he suddenly remembered something very important.

"Arthur!" Merlin exclaimed in sheer panic.

"Arthur is fine." Gaius interjected. Upon those words, Merlin relaxed. "No need to get all worked up. He's resting in his room. Every time I go to check on him, he wants to know how you are. I haven't had anything new to tell him. Arthur is not a man of many words but I can tell he was deeply concerned for you. It was within good reason too because you were in a very bad way."

"What time is it? How - how long have I been out?" Merlin asked. His voice was weak and small.

"It's been two days, Merlin." Gaius replied. It surprised Merlin to learn he'd lost two whole days to being unconscious. "When they brought you to me, you were cold, battered, and barely had a pulse. You didn't really give me much to work with."

"But then here I am." Merlin gave a tired smile. He studied Gaius' face for a lack of something better to do. "You look terrible." He added.

"You certainly haven't made things easy for me the last two days." Gaius offered. "You were not responding to anything I was administering. When you weren't trembling with cold, you were trembling with fever. Inflection festered in your untreated wounds. I was sure your life was slipping through my fingers and there was nothing I could do."

There was a rare expression of anguish in Gaius' voice, which Merlin noticed right away. It was something that Merlin thought was out of character - even for the likes of Gaius. Always the one to keep a cool head upon his shoulders, Gaius wasn't the type to lose control over any situation.

"I'm sorry I gave you such a fright." Merlin said.

"Arthur told me everything. He told me what happened in the Kayas, and what Blais did to you..." Gaius tried very hard to maintain his composure. "And - and he told me what you did afterwards - the sacrifice you made for bringing him safely back to Camelot, with little regard to how hurt you were."

"I had to." Merlin's voice came in a near whisper.

"I know." Gaius sucked in a deep breath and cleared his throat. "Are you hungry? I imagine you should be." He changed the subject. "I've been keeping a pot of turnip soup warm in case you should wake." Gaius busied himself with the task - anything to keep from becoming teary-eyed.

It was the best broth Merlin had tasted in a long time, but a few spoonfuls were enough to satisfy the hunger that was brewing in his weakened stomach. On a good, healthy day, he would've easily downed two heaping bowls of the stuff. But right then, he could barely skim the top. Although Merlin needed to put food into his body, Gaius knew it had to be gradual because force feeding could result in vomit. Gaius had already decided he was going to keep Merlin on the liquid diet until he could hold down solid food. However, Gaius did instruct Merlin to drink water to keep from dehydration. Merlin, in turn, was too weak and sick to object to anything Gaius advised.

Merlin was soothed by the occasional snapping sound of the burning wood in the fireplace. Eventually, Gaius had taken up his seat in the chair by Merlin's bedside once again. Merlin turned his gaze out the window across the room. He could see stars against a clear black sky. And an occasional strong gust of wind could be heard gushing outside. He was glad to be inside and in a warm bed. It seemed to be otherwise a quiet night.

"How is Arthur?" Merlin inquired. He not only wanted details on his health but he also wanted to test the waters a little on Arthur's temperament.

"Currently, the crowned prince is doing more harm to himself than the actual wounds. I can't seem to get him to stay in bed. I've already caught him twice sneaking out of his room to come see you. I told him you were asleep and that his presence wouldn't make a difference but he refused to hear me. So, I was forced to give him draughts to get him to relax and sleep." Gaius informed.

"So, he's not mad at me?" Merlin summed up.

"Mad at you? There's no reason for him to be mad at you. You saved his life and he's grateful."

"I - I thought he would be mad, cause I have a habit of not doing as I'm told."

"Rest assured, Merlin. Arthur is definitely not mad at you. If anything, he's worried. Perhaps he was traumatized by seeing you collapse like that in the courtyard. And when I came to his chambers to check his wounds, he just kept shaking his head and mumbling something about your hands being cold as ice. I had to give him a sedative to calm his nerves." Gaius explained. "I don't think I've ever seen him so worried about someone other than himself."

"He's definitely not the same Arthur I knew months ago." Merlin mumbled.

"It's because of you. You've been a positive influence on him. I think he will make a good and proper future king yet."

"He's stubborn as a mule sometimes."

"Well, look who's talking." Gaius chuckled lightly. "Two sides of the same coin indeed."

"I want to see Arthur." Merlin requested.

A pain stirred somewhere in Merlin's body, causing him to wince. The last dose of drugs was starting to wear off and the aches were gradually returning. He leaned his head deeper into the pillow and tried to not let it show, but Gaius saw everything. Gaius had a way with noticing such small signs of ailment. Besides, it wasn't unusual for Merlin to experience some pain. After all, his wounds were pretty awful.

"No one is seeing anyone right now. You need to heal and by doing that, you need to sleep." Gaius instructed as he grabbed a vial from the table. Merlin knew all too well what was in that vial - something nasty-tasting and something that was going to knock him out in a matter of seconds. "I know you don't like this, but you have to drink it." Gaius continued after seeing the defiance on the young warlock's face.

"It tastes like tar." Merlin challenged. He hated the taste of the medicine, but he decided relief from pain was more desirable, so he quit complaining and downed the contents of the vial in three large gulps. Upon finishing, he grimaced at the aftertaste and handed the empty vial back to Gaius.

"Now that wasn't so bad, was it?" Gaius said rhetorically. Merlin only gave a tired sigh and allowed the drugs to settle in his body. After the bitterness subsided on his tongue, he could feel a tickle of the warm thick liquid as it slid down his esophagus. It was similar to the feeling he got when he drank some really strong wine that he couldn't quite handle. He can't imagine anyone actually liking the taste of this medicine.

"Gaius?" Merlin said, breaking the silence.

"Yes?"

"Can you tell Arthur that I'm alright 'n that I'll see him later?" Merlin asked, feeling the sedation settling in his muscles. He was amazed at how fast the drugs were taking control. His mind was wandering and terribly hard to focus on any one particular thought. Darkness was calling once again.

"I will." Gaius replied.

"It's late and you really should get some sleep." Merlin drawled wearily.

"Rest, Merlin. Don't worry about anything." Gaius drew up the blanket over Merlin's bony shoulder. "Go on, close your eyes. Don't fight the drugs."

"Who's serving Arthur if I'm here?" Merlin suddenly blurted just as his eyes blinked to a close.

"Uther has assigned a temporary servant, but Arthur will want you back at your post the minute you get back on your feet." Gaius said. He turned his eyes up at Merlin and found that the young warlock had fallen fast asleep. Gaius smiled at the innocence that radiated off Merlin as he slept. Gaius sat back in his chair, pulled up his blanket and decided it was high time for some shut eye himself.

M.M.M.

Arthur drew his warm robe tighter as he shuffled down the long halls of the castle. He'd had enough of being confined to his room and smothered by an overly efficient servant who wouldn't leave him alone for three seconds, per the King's instructions. It was no better than being held a prisoner in one's own home. However, Arthur was good at scheming and it didn't take long to come up with the perfect plan for an escape.

Honey cakes. Arthur expressed that he had an unusual craving for honey cakes. However, these were not just any honey cakes that could be found in the court kitchens, these were special honey cakes that were only sold at the city market on the edge of town. He spoke highly of these treats as something he ate only once by chance while passing through. He raved on and on about how it would really make his day if he could taste it again. With a desire to continually please his master, the servant volunteered to go across town to find the barrow stall that sold these cakes and fetch a few, well, if it meant _that_ much to the young Prince. The moment the servant left, Arthur sprang out of bed and snuck out of his room.

The halls and corridors should be swarming with maids, servants, guards, and other peoples at midday, but Arthur knew the castle like the back of his hand. He knew exactly how to get around every short cut and high-trafficked sections of the castle. His steps were soft and often times, he had the reflexes of a cat. So, to walk in the shadows of the castle was a breeze. When Arthur finally reached Gaius' chamber, he noticed the door was closed. On any given day, if Gaius was there, the door would be open for anyone who needed his services. Though because of Merlin's emergency, Arthur wasn't surprised the door would be closed.

As he approached, he couldn't explain a sudden sense of guilt building like as if he was doing something he shouldn't be doing. He stopped in front of the door and tried to listen to any sounds coming from inside the room. He wasn't sure why he was sneaking around like as if he had no right to being there. This was practically his castle and the Prince didn't need permission to do anything, especially when entering any part of the servant's quarters. After deciding he couldn't hear any movement in the room, Arthur turned the doorknob and cautiously peeked into the room.

The room was softly lit by the sunlight coming in from the windows. Beyond the table and shelf stocked with jars filled with all sorts of medicines, Arthur could see a flicker of fire coming from the fireplace. As he scanned the room, his eyes fell on the figures by the fireplace. Merlin was lying on the bed with his back facing the door. His tunic had been rolled up to his shoulders revealing a naked torso. Gaius sat perched on the edge of the bed carefully rubbing a medicinal salve into the raw welts on Merlin's back. Arthur was about to announce his presence when Merlin cried out in pain. The heart-wrenching noise he made was like a cross between a sob and a grunt. Even Arthur cringed at the sound. He heard Gaius apologize for applying too much pressure. Just as Gaius turned to reach for more salve from a jar on the table, he noticed Arthur standing at the threshold.

"Come in, Sire. And close the door behind you. We can't have a draft in the room." Gaius welcomed. He wasn't surprised at Arthur showing up. There was nothing he could do to keep these two apart for long.

"Er - am I intruding?" Arthur stammered, almost afraid to go into a room that he'd been in thousands of times.

"Not the least bit. I was just finishing up." Gaius said as he put the last spread of salve on Merlin's back.

"Arthur?" Merlin said weakly, yet a bit surprised. "What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to see how you were." Arthur explained. As he came closer to the bed, Arthur found it hard to tear his eyes from the nasty raw bruising that horizontally crossed the length of Merlin's back. The angry welts were red and puffy. At some areas, puss had formed around the broken skin and at other areas, discolorations and swelling had occurred. Scars would be the last things to be worried about. From the looks of things, Arthur wondered how it was possible for Merlin to even remain conscious.

"Don't move." Arthur advised when Merlin was trying to make an effort to turn around. For a change, Merlin obeyed and remained where he was.

"How are you?" Merlin asked Arthur, as he waited for Gaius to apply some fresh bandages to cover the wounds.

"From the looks of things, much better than you." Arthur retorted.

"You ought to be in bed resting." Merlin winced when Gaius pulled the bandage tighter.

"I snuck out." Arthur admitted. "I had to. I was going crazy in there. 'Sides, Gaius said you had awakened."

"Where's George? Shouldn't he be sounding the alarms by now?" Merlin quipped.

"Oh, I wouldn't worry about that. He's on a mission right now and will be out of my hair for the next few hours." Arthur beamed.

Arthur had made his way around the bed and for the first time in three days, he was able to see Merlin's face. He was not shocked to see how ashy Merlin's complexion had become, nor was he startled at Merlin being more gaunt than usual. Arthur studied the healing pink gash on Merlin's temple. It was in deep contrast with Merlin's otherwise pale face. Just before Gaius rolled Merlin's tunic back down, Arthur caught a glimpse of the old scars across Merlin's stomach made by the gargoyle, which have only just begun to heal. He shook his head in dismay on how unfair it was for Merlin to endure such suffering. New wounds were added when the old ones hadn't even had a chance to heal yet. He took a seat in the chair that Gaius had pulled up.

"What did you do?" Merlin was afraid to ask.

"He's on the other side of town looking for honey cakes, which may or may not exist." Arthur couldn't help but laugh.

"So you sent him on a wild goose chase." Merlin grinned. "I certainly know how that feels. Not too long ago, you did the same to me. I almost feel sorry for him."

"I swear it was the only way." Arthur assured.

Arthur wore a dark red velveteen robe with gold tassels that draped majestically over his brawny frame. Merlin was not dazzled by the intricate embroidery design that ran down the length of the robe, but instead his eyes fell on a spot on Arthur's chest - the very spot where the fiery serpent hit. Arthur's beige colored tunic covered the bandages that hid the wounds. Merlin noticed Arthur's stiffened posture as he sat, but the prince did not seem overly debilitated with pain.

"You know Merlin, sometimes I wonder about you. You never do as you are told and for that, you almost got yourself killed." Arthur lectured. "But I owe you a thank you - for saving my life back there." He added softly, hoping that Gaius would not be within earshot.

"Glad to be of service." Merlin smiled.

"When you just keeled over like that, I thought I'd lost you for sure."

"I didn't think I was such a valuable asset." Merlin joked.

"Don't think too highly of yourself just yet. I'll have plenty of chores saved for you when you're able." Arthur noticed the thin purplish ring that circled around Merlin's neck left from the shackles. There was a slight pause in conversation. "Look Merlin, I'm sorry all this happened to you."

"You don't have to apologize. What I did, I did on my own accord. I would lay my life down for you."

"That's - that's what I'm afraid of." Arthur said a little too quickly. "You give no regard to yourself. I don't agree with this reckless behavior. It's gotta stop."

"You can't tell me what to do when it comes to that." Merlin swallowed, like as if the bruises around his neck were bothering him. "If there is anything in my power to keep you out of harm's way, I will do it. It's one hell of a good cause to die for."

"Your loyalty precedes you. And look where it's gotten you." Arthur scoffed.

"It's right where I want to be." Merlin argued, then realizing how stupid he sounded. "Well, maybe not exactly. But I know what I'm doing."

"Do you really? Because I thought you were just being an idiot." Arthur stared pitifully at Merlin, who had to lie on his side to keep from applying pressure to the burns on his back. And he couldn't lie on his front side because that would irritate the wounds and burns on his chest and stomach. He looked completely spent like he'd been chewed up and spit out. Merlin's blanket had fallen off his frame and left bunched up around his waist, looking quite the invalid. Arthur felt incredibly guilty for seeing his best friend this way. Perhaps the only thing Merlin was an idiot for was the fact that he was so terribly loyal.

"Supercilious clot pole." Merlin insulted back with a smile.

"Now what did I tell you about using big words? You're going to hurt yourself." Arthur rolled his eyes in feigned exasperation. At these words, Arthur drew up the blankets over Merlin's shoulder in an affectionate gesture. Gaius, who was at the table measuring powders on a scale, saw Arthur's act of kindness, though this was not the first time Arthur had extended such affection towards Merlin.

Gaius was rather pleased with this quality time between Arthur and Merlin. They needed to forget ranks and just be boys. The human interaction was healthy for both of them. Gaius carried on with his work day and allowed Arthur to spend time with Merlin. It was certainly something to keep them distracted from pain. He listened off and on to their petty conversations on things that boys their aged talked about. There was tired laughter and soft chatter of amicable voices. A few hours later, Arthur sent for Froy, the message boy, to run down to the kitchens and send up something to eat.

A servant from the kitchen appeared with a pot of fragrant venison stew complete with all the fixings, bread, and a dessert tray of fancy little cakes. The food looked delicious and Merlin had never seen such interesting cakes with colorful decorations made of cream. As much as the sweet and savory aromas made Merlin dizzy with hunger, he was reluctant about eating. Arthur made sure Merlin got the protein he needed with a heaping bowl full of stew and as much as Merlin wanted to show gratitude by eating it, he wasn't sure his weak stomach could hold it down. After a few encouraging words from Arthur, he managed to down several spoonful before declining the rest. It was more food than Merlin had consumed in a while and Gaius was glad for that. As stubborn as Merlin was, there are times when he actually listened to Arthur.

Arthur gave Froy a very important assignment, which made the ruddy-cheeked messenger boy quite happy to be on a mission instructed by the prince himself. Froy's assignment was to keep a look out for George's return. The plan was to notify Arthur the second he should spot George coming. This was so Arthur could have substantial amount of time to sneak back into his room. Froy left to his post with a straight posture and an eagerness to please the prince.

M.M.M.

Two weeks later, Merlin was back on his feet and work had pretty much resumed for him. Gaius had advised him to take it easy, but the young warlock insisted he was back a hundred percent. Merlin had been looking forward to getting back into his daily duties. Perhaps George's reputation for being a super-efficient neat freak has driven Arthur a little crazy. No matter how Arthur picked George apart, he couldn't find any major fault in anything the servant did. Everything was too "perfect." And to Arthur, that was boring. Even when Arthur threw a hissy-fit and berated George with all sorts of damaging words, George remained immune to insults and just took it as it came with a blank face. Merlin may not be the model servant, but at least he didn't have the personality of a snail. Arthur much rather preferred Merlin's company and was glad he was back.

George had completed his work to a good stopping point. He even left it so the transition of work back to Merlin would be afresh. This way, Merlin wouldn't have to finish something that someone else started. When Merlin reported for duty, he found all of Arthur's armor already polished, his laundry done, clean clothes all folded and placed neatly in the closet, floor had been mopped and bedding fixed. Nothing seemed out of place. Eventually, he found some work in the stable that housed Arthur's horses.

Merlin didn't expect to be mucking out the stables on his first day back on the job. Mucking out stables was usually a punishment that Arthur doled out when Merlin was being difficult. But seeing how everything else was all set - thanks to George - there really wasn't much to do aside from mucking out the stables. Merlin hadn't anticipated how strenuous a job it could be especially so soon after his injuries had healed. But nonetheless, he felt he had something to prove so he grabbed a wheelbarrow and begun work.

Merlin spent a good part of the morning shoveling horse droppings and pushing that dreaded wheelbarrow to and fro. It's a wonder that much waste can come out of just one horse. After that was done, he began separating the clean and soiled bedding. He went thru the whole bed - sweeping and chucking discards into the wheelbarrow. By then, his muscles were starting to stiffen and the soreness surfaced - all of which he dismissed. He wished he could use magic to finish but he knew it would be dangerous if anyone should happen to witness it.

Soon enough, the signs of fatigue were drawing upon Merlin. He was building up banks of new straw around the edges of the stable with a pitchfork when he felt a stab of pain in his chest. He stopped and waited for the pain to dissolve. Once he thought the pain was gone, he continued packing the straw. And shortly after, that same sensation of pain surfaced again. Only this time, the pain was much deeper, causing Merlin to cry out. He stood there for a moment, leaning on the pitchfork, not certain if he needed to sit. He winced and rubbed a spot on his chest.

"What _are_ you doing?" The unexpected exasperated tone belonging to Arthur gave Merlin a start.

"Arthur! How long have you been standing there?" Merlin stammered nervously when he swung around to find himself face to face with Arthur.

"Long enough to see that you're still in pain." Arthur got to the point.

"No I wasn't. It's just a muscle cramp." Merlin excused. "It happens every now and then."

"I wasn't born yesterday, Merlin. You're in pain."

"Were you spying on me?" Merlin sounded defensive.

"Hardly the word I would use." Arthur scoffed. "I hadn't seen you all morning. Was wondering where you had disappeared to."

"I've been here working." Merlin said, appearing white-faced and a little on edge.

"When I said you could come back to work, this wasn't what I had in mind - mucking out the stables is a hard job."

"Well, it needs to be done."

"Give me the pitchfork." Arthur demanded.

"What?" Merlin was confused.

"You heard me. Give me the pitchfork." Arthur ordered. "Sit." He added after Merlin had handed him the pitchfork.

Honestly, Merlin felt a little faint and thought it wise to take a seat after all. He leaned back against a bale of hay and watched in awe as Arthur began packing the stall with straw, all the while kneading a spot on his chest. Merlin hadn't expected Arthur to be doing his job for him. Perhaps the servant felt a little guilty. Before he could open his mouth to say something, Arthur interrupted.

"Looked like you could use a break." Arthur huffed as he lifted more straw with the pitchfork. "You feeling better?"

"I'm fine." A little color was coming back to Merlin's face.

"You sure didn't look it a few seconds ago. You looked like you were going to pass out. Besides, you shouldn't be out here doing this so soon. I'm going to forbid you to muck stables for a while. You'll just do some light work - George can still help for a while until you're physically able."

"I _am_ physically able." Merlin argued.

"Well, you will be. Meanwhile, you can accompany me on my errands. It'll be fun." Arthur said ironically as he tossed another fork full of straw into the horse bed. They both knew how daunting and monotonous some of those errands could be and if Merlin knew Arthur at all, he was sure that Arthur would not suffer at it alone.

"Oh, you're too kind." Merlin chortled.

"Let's be honest, you're not completely recovered yet. And I wouldn't mind you tagging along if you're up to it. You might even learn something."

"No offense, but I'd rather be polishing belt buckles. Sitting through hours of farm treaties and tax regulations is not what I call fun. That's torture." And they both laughed, each knowing the ordeal they had gone through.

Merlin decided that Arthur was starting to become more of a friend than a master. And to think that there was a time when they hated each other. Perhaps fate had a way of drawing them together even when it wasn't exactly what they wanted. It was for the good of Camelot's future and things eventually have a way of falling into place. Having Merlin assigned as his personal servant by the King was the best thing that ever happened to Arthur. Thereafter, King Uther had absentmindedly placed into Arthur a sense of goodness and compassion for all people. Aside from being an occasional moody prat, Merlin came to understand Arthur's remarkable sense of fairness and humanity.

Something in Arthur changed when Merlin ran off and returned with the Amulet of Avalon in his hands and a face stained of blood. Merlin almost died that day. It was that very moment that Arthur realized how much he cared about Merlin - like as if it was his own brother. As far as ranks were concerned, there was nothing Arthur could do. With Uther at the helm of Camelot, Arthur had no control over promoting Merlin to something more than a lowly servant. It was just how things were done. No matter how he appeared, he knew in his heart that Merlin was more valuable than any servant he had ever known.

Arthur had shoveled a few more tuffs of hay when he caught a glimpse of a pair of guards passing by. The mirth in his expression suddenly died away leaving a dull, sour look on his face.

"You're supposed to know how to do this, _Mer_ lin. If you weren't such an idiot, you'd pay better attention. Sometimes, I don't know why I even bother! Finding good help these days is _so_ hard. When you want something done, you have to do it yourself. Of course, I can't rely on _you_ to do the simplest thing right. No, that would way too easy. And for the likes of you - your brain is obviously too small for that. Now, watch and learn." Arthur berated loud enough for the guards to hear. "This is how you toss straw. See, you put your back into it. Like this." He made an exaggeration of the demonstration.

The guards heard the commotion and exchanged an I'm-so-glad-that's-not-me look with each other before hurrying on their way. Any encounter with an angry prince is not a good one. Everyone knew that. If the prince wasn't happy, no one was happy. Once the guards were out of sight, Arthur looked at Merlin and really wished he could take back the insults.

"It's alright." Merlin shrugged, seeing the guilt in the young prince's eyes. "I understand your position. Got to keep up appearances. I get it."

"You know, Merlin, there will come a time when we won't have to do this anymore." Arthur vowed bitterly as he continued shoveling hay.

It was wrong to reprimand Merlin for no reason, just for the sake of saving face. It was unheard of for royalty to be doing the job of a servant. If news of Arthur doing a servant's job travelled back to the king, he would certainly be punished for setting a bad example for people of noble rank. Arthur felt that since he was a prince, he could do as he pleased. And if he wished to help out a servant, he should not be condemned for doing it. But right then, it wasn't his kingdom yet and, believe it or not, there were still traditional rules to follow, even for Prince Arthur.

"I don't have rights. I know that." Merlin said. "You don't have to feel bad about it. 'sides, I'm used to it by now." He grinned.

"You should have rights. You're a human being." Arthur muttered under his breath after a short pause.

Merlin heard it and his heart warmed. That was the first actual comment Arthur made that touched upon the subject of equality. Merlin didn't know what this meant for the future, but if Arthur was capable of thinking with such an open mind now, perhaps the idea of a lift on the magic ban wouldn't be so impossible. It was wishful thinking on Merlin's part, but it kept his hopes up. It would be so much easier not having to sneak magic behind Arthur's back.

Merlin watched Arthur finish shoveling the last of the hay without any complaint. With the task completed, the special treatment didn't stop there. Arthur instructed Merlin to join him for afternoon tea. As far as Arthur was concerned, Merlin's job for the day was over. Merlin felt just a tiny bit awkward at the prince's sudden generosity. Putting into account the events that happened, Arthur must truly feel sorry for Merlin having been beaten within an inch of his life. Merlin figured he could milk it, but realized that it wouldn't be right to take advantage of someone else's guilt. So, Merlin just remained silent and followed Arthur.

M.M.M.

There was a trace of a grassy sweet smell in the air indicating that spring was near. Sharp winds occasionally shook the still bare tree limbs reminding people that winter was not letting go just yet. The ground was still soggy and moist from the last snowfall that had melted. Merlin sat on a stone bench just outside the castle grounds. It was a spot that he often came to when he wanted to think or be alone. The flat bench was perched on a short, grassy hill and from where he sat, he could see the castle's ramparts and the proud Pendragon flags that waved atop the lookout towers. There was a certain peacefulness about that particular spot. It was away from the bustle of people and noise. Yards behind him were a small clutter of skinny birch trees.

Something about wide open spaces really brought him joy. If he should turn his head to the west, he could see for miles beyond the slopes of other hills and patches of trees. It was the late afternoon and the sun was just starting to dip onto the horizon. The winds have slightly picked up and Merlin drew up the collar of his coat. Merlin's gaze soon settled on a short familiar stone tower protruding from the south end of Camelot. It was a plain round tower with a pointy roof, which could pass as an old bell tower. Only a vertical slit cut through the wall in the middle of the tower could be seen from this angle. This was the Temple of Grace, where the precious Amulet of Avalon was held.

Merlin couldn't decide whether it was a blessing or a curse to have the amulet overlooking Camelot. It was because of the fig-shaped crystal that a chain of rather unfortunate events followed. Merlin knew in his heart that if he had known about Blais from the start, all this could've been prevented. Perhaps he underestimated the amulet's power or perhaps he overestimated the impossibility of the castle being penetrated. It was carelessness that led to the misadventure. Many of the people in the kingdom viewed the amulet as a sacred relic that would rid all evil and protect them. And when times were desperate, it was something to hang hope on. As for Uther, Merlin didn't know what his true intentions were for keeping the amulet in his kingdom, especially since he made it clear that he despised anything connected to magic. Maybe his reason was to give people hope of a higher power, or maybe it was the idea of possessing something that had so much influence over the people. It was most likely the latter. Whichever the case, it was only fitting for a king to own such a thing.

Merlin's feelings about the amulet were bittersweet. He felt a good chunk of his life had been taken away and things would never be the same. The physical injuries have healed, but there were still some emotional trauma that stirred from time to time. He noticed there were times when one minute everything was fine, and the next, something dark in the back of his mind would cause him to be frightfully scared. This wasn't something he could readily share with anyone, not even Gaius. It wasn't that he was embarrassed by it. It was more so because he felt everyone had spent enough time worrying about him. He thought about what he had gone through and became misty eyed.

"There you are! I knew I'd find you here." Arthur said, approaching the bench. Merlin jumped at the unexpected voice. "This is not how I imagined you would spend your afternoon - sitting here freezing your bum off." Arthur noticed Merlin quickly wiping away any trace of tears with his sleeve.

"How did you find me?" Merlin asked, trying to be as composed as possible. He took note of a short basket Arthur was carrying.

"Merlin, did you really think you were that unpredictable?" Arthur rolled his eyes and took a seat next to Merlin. "I had Froy follow you." He admitted humorously after a pause. "Froy has been earning quite a few coins for all these _special_ missions lately."

"Highly unlike you to pay him off extra for doing something he's supposed to be doing anyway." Merlin joked, trying not to give Arthur the notion that anything was wrong.

"Ah well, he's just a boy and besides, it keeps him motivated." Arthur said.

"Wonder what he'll do with the loot. I don't know, Arthur. Now I'm a bit jealous." Merlin tried to laugh it off but instead, his voice cracked.

"He mentioned that he wanted to save up to buy a new bonnet for his mother." Arthur said. "I think it's kind of sweet."

Merlin smiled and absentmindedly glanced up at the direction the Amulet of Avalon. Arthur noticed Merlin's glassy-eyed fixation on the tower and understood the reason for Merlin's somber mood of late. It was pretty obvious to Arthur that the servant had been trying very hard to appear normal and at times, he was very convincing. But only a person who has spent as much time with him would know that something was a slightly amiss. Arthur genuinely cared about Merlin. It's not something he would openly admit, but actions spoke louder than words.

"I thought you might be hungry - sitting out here in the cold all this time." Arthur's tone was light. He proceeded to open the basket and takeout its contents. "I'm pretty sure you will like this." He took out a plate covered with a red and white checkered handkerchief. "I've been told that this is your favorite." Arthur was quite proud of himself as he removed the handkerchief.

"Is that...baked yams?" Merlin's eyes widened as he stared at the contents of the plate. There were two beefy looking orange-colored yams drenched in syrup. Steam was still piping out of the top like as if they had just come out of the oven. He was rather in awe at how Arthur knew this was his favorite treat.

"Yes, but not just any baked yam. This is Mrs. Mattie's own recipe. She used a special honey glaze seasoned with a hint of cinnamon. You're going to like it. I've already eaten a piece - I couldn't help it. It just smelled so good. You know, I never thought yams could taste this good. You might be onto something here." He handed Merlin the plate.

"I don't understand...how?" Merlin stammered, nearly at a loss for words.

"If you must know, Gaius mentioned it was your favorite once. I requested Mrs. Mattie to cook some and she did, so here it is." Arthur summed. He was taking out a few other items from the basket when he saw Merlin starting at his plate. "Well, eat up, while it's still hot."

"Arthur..." Merlin looked up. "Why are you doing all this?"

"What do you mean?" Arthur asked innocently.

"Coming here. Bringing me a snack."

"Correction - bringing _us_ a snack. I have a part in this too." Arthur pointed out and held up a roll of bread.

"Why are you really here?" There was a breaking in Merlin's voice.

"Merlin, can't you just accept the fact that I'm trying to be nice." Arthur shot back in a humorous-defensive tone. He sighed and there was a pause before he continued. He nodded towards the tower. "I know why _you_ come here. You can stare at it all you want but nothing about it is going to change. The only thing that'll happen is you'll just fall deeper and deeper into the obsession and the despair. It'll consume you and drive you crazy. I've been down that road and I know what it's like. I don't want you to have to go through that."

"You can deny it all you want, but you know it's the truth." Arthur added before Merlin could open his mouth to disagree. "You can't blame yourself for what happened. None of this was your fault."

"So, I'm just supposed to forget it?" Merlin said with anguish.

"Yes." Arthur replied whole-heartedly.

"I can't."

"I'm not asking you to forget it all this instant. I'm saying, just let some of it go each day." Arthur advised. "It's the only way you'll ever be free."

There was a lot of wisdom in Arthur's words and Merlin did find some relief in hearing those noble words. Merlin hated to admit it, but Arthur was right. To be honest, Merlin had been spending quite an abnormal amount of time at that bench on his time off. It really was hard to tear away from that place. Perhaps he finally realized why Arthur had come. Perhaps Arthur was there to save him from spiraling further and further away into a world that wasn't Merlin. He saw something happening in Merlin that maybe no one else noticed. Merlin failed to realize just how emotionally fragile and vulnerable he had been at that moment. He might have convinced himself and everyone around him that he had it together when in reality, he was slowly starting to fall apart. Arthur saw the subtle signs and knew exactly what Merlin needed - a friend. And Arthur vowed never to abandon Merlin in his greatest time of need, the same way Merlin had never abandoned him.

"Merlin, you can talk to me you know...about anything." Arthur offered. "Maybe I hadn't been very reachable in the past, but I'm here for you now. I'd understand more than you think. Sometimes, you look like you have the weight of the world on your shoulders."

At those last words, Merlin looked up from staring at the plate of yams. That was exactly how Merlin felt - the weight of the world on his shoulders.

"What do you say we share that weight?" Arthur suggested and smiled. "The journey's a long one and we'll get through it faster if we help each other." It was the first time that Merlin ever had a heart-to-heart conversation with Arthur. And in this rare moment, Arthur was so civil that he could actually pass for a "normal" human being.

Merlin was so caught up that he couldn't find his voice and only gave a curt nod. He knew Arthur meant well. But there were complicated things that were beyond what he could ever tell Arthur. These were the secrets he had to keep to ensure not only Arthur's safety, but more importantly - his own.

The gradual change in Arthur was something that Merlin noticed more and more as time went on. He was proud of the fact that Arthur was showing more compassion and seeing the world in a new light. Of course, Merlin was still not used to being on the receiving end of all the special treatment. It wasn't typical of the royal prince to pay attention to trivial things, like knowing his servant's favorite foods. But it was nice for a change.

Merlin watched Arthur continue to take out food from the basket and setting up things on the bench. Merlin just realized how incredibly lucky he was.

"Arthur." Merlin called softly. The prince looked up and their eyes met. "Thank you." Merlin added. Arthur knew Merlin wasn't talking about the food. It was for being there and giving Merlin a little emotional support to show that they were in this together. This meant the world to Merlin.

"Well, go on then. Eat." Arthur instructed amiably.

With a heart brimming with appreciation, Merlin obeyed.

**The End**


End file.
